The Vague Katti
by SneakyDorcas
Summary: Meet Lyn's tactician. She is violent, unpredictable, terrifying, and she has taken a firm interest in training inexperienced Lyn. With the aid of Batta the Beast, Kay of Bern, and the usual gang, Lyn struggles to keep Vague from killing her... with kindness or a knife in her back. Female Tactician, strong language, LynxMystery and possible sexy stuff. Taking requests for romances!
1. The Beast

I don't own any of the Fire Emblem games, any characters in the games, or anyone I make mention of.

I was reading some Fire Emblem stories (_Rekka no Ken_, for those among you who have invested enough time in the franchise to understand what a Manakete is [it's a human who can turn into a dragon, btw] and their entire history), where people add in dialogue for the tactician. The tactician in _Rekka no Ken_ has no dialogue in-game, so people are free to make him or her say whatever they want in fanfictions such as this one. So, once more, here's a new take on that.

I'm not even _trying_ to follow the game's canon. If anyone says "oh, Lyn isn't sup_posed_ to fall in love with Karel", **_I WILL STAB YOU IN THE EYE SOCKETS_**. I'm just typing out my own fantasy here. On that note, have fun!

Just so you know, I only have one romantic couple in mind. I'm willing to accept_ literally any pairing you can think of_, except for the two characters I've decided on. I'm even including some characters who can't be recruited in-game. Have fun with that!

These are the couples that have been suggested to me thus far (and which I will act on, unless I get more votes for something else):

Lyn x Mystery character : not changing it ever  
Erk x Serra : 1 vote  
Hector x Kay(OC) : 1 vote

I'm sorry if I get any of the characters' personalities wrong. Other than that, I'm not apologizing.

* * *

**Fire Emblem**

The Vague Katti

* * *

_You might think you know how this story goes, but you don't._

_ This is a different world than that of Lyn's reunion, or Nergal's plan for the Dragon's Gate. Here, the events of the past are not set in stone, and neither are those of the future. We may predict the outcome, but any guess is just that: a guess._

_Abandon every forewarning._

**_ You_**

**_ do_**

**_ not_**

**_ know_**

**_ how_**

**_ this_**

**_ tale_**

**_ unfolds._**

* * *

She felt her stomach growling. She hadn't eaten in five days now, and she hadn't had a drink in three. Her mind coldly processed the nearby environment. Inedible green grass swirled around her as far as she could see. The sky was clear of clouds at the moment, yet she knew how fast a storm could break in the grasslands of Sacae.

In these conditions, she would die in two days, barring a predator attack. She knew this. She had less than a day before starvation would set in and become irrevocable. She didn't even feel her stomach anymore, merely an empty, endless pit.

The traveler observed her own hunger and parched thirst with a cool, clinical corner of her mind. Her fingers twiddled just next to the leather sheathes inside her cloak. That twiddling was the only trace of anxiety on her, the only wasted scrap of motion she made. All the rest of her movement was sharp, purposeful, coldly calculated. She looked like a woman on a mission.

In a sense, she was. She'd been many things in this life; a soldier, a mage, a tactician. Now it was going to end, and she wanted to be apart from what she'd done when it did.  
She was going out on the grasslands to die.  
She trudged on.

* * *

An hour passed. She felt her feet slipping under her weight. She didn't look down as she slowed her pace slightly. She steadied her feet, moving in a different pattern. She shifted her weight onto her heels, sliding past the sharp green blades of grass without breaking any of them.

After a few more minutes, the grass parted under her weight as she fell at last. Her arms were spent, she knew; she wouldn't be able to lift herself up. Seeing no other option, she folded her arms under her body as she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

Then, it happened. By now it was a routine for her. All it took was a little time.

* * *

...

_...and the world falls away..._

_...again..._

...

* * *

She awakened instantly. In a flash, her eyes were wide open and totally alert. Above her was a roof of cloth. At her sides were walls of the same material. The trappings of the tent were not as austere as a bandit's hovel, and not as grandiose as a tribal ger. The owner of this tent did not fit into any of the human categories she had analyzed in the Sacaen plains.

She sat up with a slight strain. Her clothes were still on her body, all her appropriate gear was where she had put it. This boded well for both her own well-being and the owner's sanity. With any luck, the owner would allow her to have a stable, straightforward conversation.

From just outside the tent, someone's hand slid along the fabric of the tent. The traveler took a perfectly neutral position, sitting with her legs crossed.

Whoever was outside found the entrance flap, opened it, and stepped inside.  
The traveler's first thought was simple: '_The new Lady._'

She was female, adolescent, fifteen to seventeen years of age. Slender in her limbs and dressed in what could only be the traditional clothes of some Sacaen tribe the traveler had never seen before, the girl kept an iron katana at her right hip. Keeping with the Sacaen style of dress, her long, dark green hair flowed far behind her as she moved, flowing free like a river of green water.  
Her motions were graceful, particularly her hands. Fingerless gloves gripped at the tent's fabric with ease, possibly from long experience or natural dexterity, likely the latter. She was fully inside before the traveler could catch sight of her face.

As the girl turned, the traveler scanned her face. A lonely face, thin, pretty. A round, though narrow nose hung easily over unpolished lips. Huge eyes, teal flowing into cyan, dominated all the rest. Its structure was regal, but used to wild emotion. The girl couldn't have been older than sixteen.

She jumped as she caught sight of the traveler. For a moment, the girl had a sickening sensation of looking in a mirror.

The girl's left hand went to her sword in a blur that showed a bit of experience and a lot of talent. The traveler made no move as the girl crouched into a fighting pose.

The girl stood still for a moment. She shook herself and stood back up, embarrassed. She took her hand away from its handle with a nervous laugh. "Oh, good, you're awake!" She dashed back outside for a moment.  
The traveler watched her go.

The girl came back in, carrying a huge bowl of something that steamed and smelled of meat. "I found you unconscious on the plains," the girl added as she set the bowl on the floor in front of her. "You're safe now."

She handed the traveler a wooden spoon, and gave her a pat on the shoulder. "Eat," she said.

She stared at the bowl, then the spoon, then at the girl who had brought it to her. She _click_ed.

Her eyes lit up with hunger. She crouched low as she grabbed the edges of the bowl and brought it to her mouth. Her expression did not change as the soup poured down her throat and filled her stomach. She could hear the broth sloshing into her, and she could feel herself filling up.

In mere seconds, the bowl was empty. The traveler wiped her lips, stood up, and knelt to the girl. "Blessings of our mother Earth upon you, Lyndis of the... Lorca, I believe? I owe you no more and no less than my own life. I am, now and forever, your servant." Her head whipped up to look at Lyndis. "That is, if you wish to take my life for my services."

She could not have been more surprised. For several long seconds, Lyndis' mouth hung open and she stuttered. "Gh... Wha-w-huh-huh... Who are you?! How do you know my name?! What are you talking about?!"

The traveler's eyes locked onto hers as if they were targets. "I have a knack for names, and the history behind them. If you prefer, my lady, I could call you Lyn," she added, dismissing the conversation all at once.

Lyn's exhale was heavy with anger. "What's _your_ name, then? Surely you can remember _that_," she said, the false amusement audibly straining as she spoke.

The Traveler looked away. After a moment, a slight tone of melancholy filled the tent.  
"...I do not. None of the names I remember are mine. I must say, it irks me... memories of myself are vague. It's been so long... my name is... it's vague to me."

Lyn lowered her head. It was the closest she would normally come to an apology.  
She thought for a moment. "Hmm..." A tiny smile spread her cheeks. "Then I shall _give_ you a name." She put a thumb by her nose. "This takes a bit of thought. After all, it takes thought to name a living being."

The traveler snorted. "Only too true, milady."

Lyn trapped her nose. "M... Mill... No, that's too coarse. Oh! Miledy would suit-"

"**NO!**" The traveler screamed.

After she cleared her ears, Lyn looked over the traveler's worn brown-purple cloak and her travel-stained boots and decided to change the subject. "I see by your attire that you are a traveler. What brings you to the plains of Sacae? Would you share your story with me?"

The traveler's expression grew serious. "I am skilled with all manner of weapons, and with some magics, and with the tactics of war. The lives I took those skills from are behind me now, but if ever the time comes for those talents to be used, I will bring them all to bear, and gladly, in your name, milady Lyn." The traveler smiled at her tactful evasion. Her history could come later.

Lyn was about to respond when she heard something from outside. "Perhaps the time has already come. Wait here for me." She darted outside.

The traveler waited, as she had been told. A moment later, Lyn came rushing back in. "Bandits! They must have come from the Bern Mountains! They must be planning on raiding the local villages." A hint of anger and fear came into her voice. "I... I have to stop them! If that's all of them, I think I can handle them on my own." She went out again. Her wild, loose hair drained out behind her.

As she went, a purple-brown shadow followed. A vague hint of a blade gleamed somewhere inside the lining.

* * *

Outside of the tent was an astonishing view of a glorious Sacaen landscape. A lagoon of green growing grass stretched out farther than human eyes could see, so far it seemed to grow into the edges of the midday sky.  
Lyn was too agitated to appreciate it, though.

She turned to the traveler and barked, "Stay in there! You'll be _safe_!"

The traveler's hand slipped inside her cloak. Silently, she brought out a pair of steel daggers, pommels cradled easily in her fingers.

Lyn blinked. "You want to help...? Can you use those daggers?"

The traveler merely said, "I shall only give you advice unless you are willing to take my life."

Lyn shook her head. "No. But if you really want to help, I could use your advice. I'll protect you, so stay close to me."

The traveler chuckled a tiny bit.  
Without another sound, she went to the edge of the hill and took a long, measured look of the battlefield. Her eyes traced the contours and lines and hills and valleys of everything as far as her eyes could see. After a few moments, she turned back to Lyn. "Do you have another weapon? Maybe a silver sword, or a killing edge?"

Lyn shook her head.

The traveler turned back to the view. "I see..." she muttered. "Milady. Run to the base of this hill. At the bottom, there will be a tall man with a dull axe. He will put up little resistance, and he tends to guard high. Cut at the top of his thick belly, and he'll fall silently. Over there, near the large ger, there is another man with an axe."  
A thoughtful pause came from the traveler. "He will be difficult to defeat if you aren't skilled. What style of sword combat do you use?"

Lyn looked perplexed. "Style? I don't understand. All the fighters of my tribe attack the same way," she said. As she said it, she drew her blade, cut with it, and sheathed it once more in a single, fluid, practiced motion. "For the most part," she said, slightly embarrassed.

The traveler looked intrigued. "A Myrmidon style, if I'm not mistaken. Perfect. That will be more than enough to rout these bandits." On the last word, the traveler bounded down the hill.

Lyn followed behind, keeping her hand firmly on her sword's grip. As she ran, she saw the man the traveler had described. She picked up speed. He turned. She came up to him and slashed the blade through his belly. For good measure, she twisted her sword in, up, and out again. As the traveler had predicted, he died without making a sound.

Lyn stared at the man's corpse with a feeling of disbelief. "Is he dead?" she said numbly. "Did I kill him?"

Suddenly, the traveler was there. "Yes, and it was an excellent first kill, milady. Clean." She looked over Lyn's body. She gasped, and pointed to Lyn's calf. "Milady, you are injured!"

Lyn looked down at her leg. What she saw could barely be called a wound; honestly, it was just a scratch. "It's nothing, honestly."

The traveler looked at her as if she were crazy. "I've seen lesser wounds kill men slowly, Lady Lyn. Believe me, it is far better to be sure than to be infected. Have you a vulnerary?" Without waiting for a response, her hands dived into her cloak. They emerged with a bottle of something that was stoppered with a steel bolt. She undid the bolt and poured something cold and sticky on Lyn's wound.

The scratch closed almost instantly.

The traveler poked the place where the scratch had been. Finally, she backed away, and bowed. "You are healed, milady. Please, do not take so many risks. I have no wish to bury another comrade."

Lyn flinched. "Comrade..." A twitch flitted past her eye. "Traveler. Where are you from?"

The response was instant. "If you want my birthplace, it was Khadein. If you want the place I was raised, my home is in the Tower of Thabes. It was... a terrible place. If I may choose my own place, I name Isaach as my home." She paused briefly, paying no heed to Lyn's look of confusion. "I can tell you the rest later. We have bandits to rout."

* * *

Lyn looked around. She spotted a large man standing before a huge tent. An axe was clenched in his right hand, resting easily on his wrist. She approached him slowly. The man didn't turn, and Lyn could see light sparkling off the man's dirty blond hair.

Then, after a moment, his arm swept out toward Lyn. His head stayed confidently fixed forward as he shouted, "Who do you think you are?! You think you can stand up to Batta the Barrel-Chested?!"

Lyn froze, scared stiff. She thought, _I was using all my ways of stealth! HOW DOES HE KNOW I'M HERE?_

After a moment, Batta dropped his hand. "Nah, sounds kinda fake. Maybe..." He flourished his arm again. "Do you dare battle Batta the Bear?!" His hand fell again. "Too childish..."

Lyn stared at him. "Is he... _rehearsing his lines_?" A giggle fell from her lips before she could stop it.

The traveler appeared before her. "Yes. Yes he is." Before Lyn could stop her, the traveler's hand wrapped around her wrist. "This is the perfect opportunity to slay him. He'll put up no fight. We just have to make sure he doesn't hear us..."

Lyn tore free of the traveler's grasp and glared at her. "I don't know what you have heard of the people of the plains, but _we have honor_." She walked past the traveler. "Batta!" she yelled.

He jumped about a foot into the air. "AAAAGH! Boss, I'm sorry! I..." He saw Lyn and the traveler standing by themselves. "Oh. I thought you were the boss. Well, pretty lady, you wanna see what a mountain man feels like?"

Lyn's smile faded. "I'm fifteen."  
Batta grinned at her. "And I'm five!"  
Lyn tilted her head at him in confusion. "You don't look... wait. Just... just to be clear, what are we counting?"  
"Why, how many wenches we've bedded! And let me tell you, I'm a bit impressed. I don't think_ I've_ ever met a wench who would lie down with a woman."  
Lyn recoiled. Judging by the look on her face, she'd just caught a whiff of rotting dog. "Ugh! That's disgusting! I was telling you how many _birthdays_ I've had!"  
Batta pursed his lips. "That doesn't change my number. Still five."

For a moment, the wind was still in the plains of Sacae.

Batta looked around, feeling distinctly awkward as usual. Finally, his gaze fell on his axe, and for a moment, it was possible to see a light bulb over his head. Lyn (who wasn't exactly up-to-speed on electronics) stepped back. "DIE!" Batta yelled.

His arm swirled around in a wide arc, glancing the blade of his axe across Lyn's left arm and leaving behind a shallow gash. Lyn had to bite back a curse.  
Batta swore loudly at his axe for missing its mark as he tossed it to his other hand.  
Lyn charged in at the axeman as her right arm flicked her katana loose from its sheath. A desperate kick to Batta's hand jarred the axe loose from his hand. Her left hand darted for her sword's grip. Lyn drew the blade in a flash across his bare chest and left a tiny line of red down his chest.  
As Batta got a grip on his own weapon, he ducked into a roll and came up axe-first, ready to block any attack Lyn would make.

A moment hung in the air. Batta's face, shriveled into a terrified whimper, Lyn just out of reach. The wind was still in the plains of Sacae. Silence took its place.

Lyn saw the look of fear on Batta's face. A smirk crossed her face as she shifted forward, and fell away as she darted back again. She'd noticed a certain tension pass through Batta's body as she came closer, flexing into and around his arms... and his axe...  
Lyn darted away.

She missed the confusion on Batta's face as she did so.

"Huh? What was that all about..."

As Batta recalled on the peculiarities of the Lorca, a thought entered his mind. He quickly whirled around, axe leveled. Finding nothing but wind and grass behind him, Batta found himself more confused than ever. "Why did she run away so fast...?"

The answer dawned on him with a gasp. "She's running for help! I have to stop her!" With that, Batta took off after her, barreling over grass like he was walking on the wind itself.

Lyn looked behind her while she sprinted away. She was running as fast as she'd ever run. Already her legs felt like iron and lead when she took a step. Yet even with her enormous head start, Batta was on her heels, running at her like a demon... _gaining ground on a plainswoman_.

A twinge came into her cut arm. "Whew... he's tough... it all comes down to this next blow," she muttered.

She raised her voice to a shriek that thudded with her footsteps. "Traveler! If I fall, I want you to flee! You must escape!"

All of a sudden, the traveler had always been at her side. "I am truly sorry. I can only obey you if you are willing to accept my life as your servant."

Lyn stopped in her tracks. Batta slammed into her and fell backwards. "You're serious about this."

The traveler nodded. "It is the path I..." she trailed off.

"Hey! Don't ignore me!" Batta shouted. Lyn stabbed him in the face. "OOOWWW!"

"Butt out!" Lyn yelled. Then, to the traveler: "The path you _what_?"

The traveler's lip curled into a snarl. "I will not talk about it if _he's_ going to hear it, and I won't tell _anyone_ until they've taken my life!"

She blinked. The snarl fell away; the traveler resumed her normal, blank expression. She turned away, kneeled. "I believe I must apologize. That was not the manner of a servant."

Batta got up more slowly this time. He made sure that the girl wouldn't see him, and he made no noise as he hefted his axe. Even so, the traveler tracked him with her eyes, following every move he made. Batta (wisely) decided to stay back for awhile.

Lyn looked at the traveler, measuring, waiting, sensing what she could. "Whatever you can tell me, tell me now."

The traveler gave her a cold smile. "I am a traveler. Before you found me, milady, I left everything I cared for behind. My brother is gone, and I was ready to follow him." She fixed her smoldering eyes on Batta and scowled. "That's all I can let _him_ hear. Now, Batta, is there something you wish to say?"

Lyn turned around to face Batta the Barrel-Chested. His axe rested gently in his hands. He was staring quietly at his feet, shuffling back and forth and looking generally uncomfortable.

"I, uh... I want to say... that is, I'd like you to know... erm... **I think you're pretty!**" he yelled.

Lyn recoiled from his sudden shout. "I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

The traveler slipped behind her. "Milady, I believe he is trying to tell you - in his strange, childish, confusing way - that he is sorry."

Batta pointed at her and yelled, "YES! That's what I meant to say!" Then, more quietly, he said, "I don't do that much." He blinked. "Hold fast. Did you just call her 'milady'? My boys back in the Mountaintides could get an alehouse's worth from a noble lady!" He sidled up to Lyn, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Now, I don't want to _assume_-"

The traveler interrupted him, via a bone-crushing grip on his hand. "You. Do. Not. TOUCH. My lady."

Batta whimpered. She let his hand go.

The traveler kneeled to Lyn again. "I apologize if I overstepped my bounds, milady."  
"It's no problem. Just... call me Lyn. I'm not a lady."  
"As you wish, milady."  
"I mean it!"  
"As you wish, milady. Though if I may be so bold, you do seem a bit... (how to say it)... noble. Your face bears a striking resemblance to Roy."  
Lyn's brow wrinkled curiously. "Roy? Who's Roy?"

The traveler blinked. "Never mind. It was meant as a compliment, milady." She nodded toward Batta as she said, "And what do we do with him? Shall I take his life?"

"No! He's lost. Whatever danger he had in him, it's gone. Even if it was _vague_ danger." Suddenly, Lyn's eyes lit up. "Oh! That's it!" Turning back onto the traveler, Lyn added, "By Mother Earth and Father Sky, I dub you... Vague."  
Lyn gave the others an embarrassed smile. "You see, because she said her name was vague, meaning she couldn't remember her name, so I call her Vague, meaning her... name..."

She took in the looks of those around her. "_I _ thought it was a good name," she huffed.

The traveler, now Vague, giggled a little. "What an odd-sounding name - but pay me no mind, it is a good name," she added quickly as she caught sight of Lyn's furious glare. "I do not believe there has been anyone named Vague before me. You have my most profound-... I mean... thank you, Lyn."

As one, Lyn and Vague turned their attention to Batta. Vague looked almost gleeful as she blurted, "So, you want me to kill him?"

Lyn slammed a hand on Vague's shoulder as she passed by. "No! What did I just say?!" She took a deep breath and added, calmly, "I have another idea."

She approached Batta slowly, like he was a wounded animal. With calm, gentle hands, she took Batta's axe from his hand and laid it beside him on the ground. With those same hands, she softly took hold of Batta's hand. "Well, Batta. I could use an escort." She looked Batta in the eye. "Just so you know, I'm sorry for cutting your chest. I really am."

Batta took away his hand roughly (but not too roughly) and crossed his arms stubbornly. "It doesn't matter to me. There's nothing you can do to-"

"I have stew!" Lyn cut in.

"-keep me from being your escort!" Batta declared, a fierce look in his eye.

Lyn paused. "Batta, are you Sacaen? I'm merely curious," she said in a casual tone.

Batta declared, "Hah! I may not be a plainsman, but I'm a man of Sacae and proud of it!"

Lyn smirked. "Then do you promise to be my escort?"

Batta grinned. "If you're willing to feed me, I'll escort you until you reach your goal! There's no better bravo and guard for mountain paths than Batta, the Axe King of Sacae! I promise, I'll get you where you're going!"

Lyn leaned in. "Do you promise?"

"Yes, I promise! Now, soup!"

Lyn smiled. "That's twice you promised! Come, Vague. Let's show him the hospitality of the Lorca."

Vague smiled wearily. "As you will, milady. Get over here, Batta. We have a soft bed, if you want it."

Batta shook his head. "I'm a mountain man! The cold, hard ground is my mattress, and the open air is my blanket! See that rock? That's gonna be my pillow!" To drive his point home, Batta grabbed a large, flat rock from the ground and lifted it onto his shoulder.

Vague nodded. "Whatever you say. Just so you know, the rocks are really cold around here."

Batta was too busy warming his frozen fingers to say anything back.

As Lyn and Vague made their way back to Lyn's tent, Batta, the Axe King of Sacae, followed close behind. He didn't want to miss out on a free meal.

* * *

They went inside Lyn's tent, and they talked. Lyn brought him a bowl of soup, which Batta stored in a wooden bottle and plugged with a soft metal cork. Vague watched them both with dark, passionless eyes.

Batta, meanwhile, wanted to know more about the girl who hired him. "Miss... uh, Lyn, was it?"

Lyn nodded.

Batta continued, "Well, missy, what makes you so sure you want to leave the plains?"

Lyn's nostrils flared as she bared her teeth. "What's that supposed to mean?!" she shouted.

Batta flinched a little. "What I mean is, why are you going? Can't you take care of yourself here?"

Lyn blinked. "Oh... Well, I'm running low on vulneraries, my sword needs fixing, and I can't find any of my old books anymore. I hoped I could get some cooking supplies, and perhaps some of that Ilian melting candy."

Batta licked his lips. "Mmm-mmm-_mmm_! Better delicacies could not be asked for!"

Lyn frowned at the edges of her smile. "My friend Florina told me that a woman made it."

Batta blinked. "I didn't know that. Whoever this Florina is, he must be pretty smart."

Lyn smiled a little wider. "Yes, **_she_** is."

Batta blinked again. "She, eh? Perhaps she's pretty _and_ smart!"

Lyn laughed as she clapped her palm to her head. "You have got to be the most chauvinistic beast I've ever met!"

Batta laughed out loud. "Hah ha ha ha ha ha! Batta the Beast! Hah, I never would'a thought of calling myself that! That deserves a drink!" Without another word, he popped the cork off his bottle and took a swig of Lyn's stew. A tiny drop of broth spilled down to his chin. As he took his lips from the bottle, he wiped it away with the edge of his hand.  
"Ah, good stuff. Hey, I have to ask again. Are you sure you should leave with two strangers like this?"

Lyn snorted. "What do you mean, am I sure?"

Batta shrugged. "I don't know. Are you? I mean, shouldn't we get permission from your parents or something?"

Lyn flinched. Her eyes filled with tears. "Permission...? My mother and my father... They..."

"Yes, milady?" Batta flinched upon hearing Vague's voice. He'd honestly forgotten the scary woman was still there.

Lyn's voice filled with anguish and sorrow and cold rage as she said, "They died six months ago. My people - the Lorca - they... I am the last of the Lorca. Bandits attacked, and... they killed so many! All my friends - and all my family! I will never forgive those monsters! NEVER!"

Vague stepped in front of her. "Milady." Lyn glared at her.

Vague continued in a demonic whisper. "Milady, I can make you into the peerless warrior needed to slay those monsters, should you wish it. With me as your tutor, you can slaughter those monsters like the pigs they are."

Silence held in Lyn's tent. Lyn herself was stunned. _My heart's desire..._

Batta's mouth gaped open. He stuttered, "H-h-holy hell! You're crazy, woman! Taking on bandits is no easy task! Do you have any idea how hard a bandit will fight when his life is on the line?! None of them want to die! They'll fight! And they'll kill you!" Batta shuddered. "And the Taliver... Those monsters won't kill you. They'll do something worse..." He gasped. A glance towards Lyn set him shaking. "Lyn... were the bandits that attacked you... Taliver?"

Lyn grit her teeth and nodded.

Batta looked away. "I'm sorry," he muttered under his breath.

For a moment, there was silence in Lyn's tent. Vague walked between them. She turned towards Batta, staring at his face, tracing the lines and curves and dents.

"A beast indeed." Vague spat. "Milady, think my offer over and speak to me in the morning."  
In a more casual tone, she added, "May I take a blanket?"

Lyn nodded. Vague grabbed a thick quilt and walked slowly through the entrance flap, out under the stars. Lyn and Batta watched her form, outlined with gold by the setting sun, folding the blankets into a dome of soft warmth. Vague toiled until the sun was well beyond the hills, and at last she slipped inside the blanket and lay still.

Batta stretched his arms over his head with a yawn. "Aaaah. I'm gonna go turn in, okay? Good night, Lyn."

"Wait a second."

Batta stopped. "Yeah, but could you make it quick? My favorite dream comes on at nine!"

Lyn smiled at that. "Are you really five years old?"

Batta snorted. "No! Where'd you get that idea?"

Lyn blinked in confusion. "You said you had five birthdays!"  
"And I did! I was born on February 29th. On a leap year."  
"Then you're..." Lyn counted the years up in her head. "Thirty-seven?!"  
Batta shook his head frantically. "NO! NO! NO! No, no, I'm not thirty-seven! Some of my friends decided to celebrate my birthday on the 28th a couple years ago. I'm actually..." He counted on his fingers for a while, his brow knitted and furrowed with pure concentration. His breathing actually sped up while he made the incredibly difficult calculations.  
"Uh... I lost count. Something like twenty years old, I think."

Lyn laughed at him for a second. "Ah, of course. Forgive me, I didn't know."

Batta grinned dopily at her. "No problem! Just don't go telling that scary lady! She scares me."

Lyn smiled happily. "Fine. Good night, Batta. Don't let the bedbugs bite!"

Batta jumped. "Bedbugs?!" he squealed, terrified.

Lyn rolled her eyes. "It's just a joke. Good night, moron."

Batta nodded. "That's better." He wrinkled his brow. "Hey!" he cried.

Lyn was already back inside the tent, and she'd closed the flap tight with a chuckle.


	2. The Knight, Scarlet

Aya, friends! This is SneakyDorcas, reporting for duty once again!

Okay, kind of a crazy month for me: first off, my PC died on me. I've been working on the computers in my public library and my super-protective brother's laptop for three weeks now, ever since I decided I was a slave to the Internet.

Wow! I just counted up the number of words in the first two chapters of this story, and it's almost the same number as my first story! Holy crap! And that story had 14 chapters!

Blah, blah, blah, enough about me. Here's the thing.  
I'm trying to flesh out the fine details of the Fire Emblem world, and the inhabitants thereof. Needless to say, this is a bit difficult to do when the only people Lyndis' Legion can interact with are anonymous shopkeepers and random villagers. So, here's what I'm gonna do:  
I'm going to make up some original characters to man the shops and fight the Legion. Later on in this chapter, Vague will meet one of the new shopkeepers.

I know it's a bit part, but please give me some feedback on him! I really want to keep this thing going, but I want some pointers too! Hell, if you'd PM me, I could put one of your characters as a shopkeeper (or random drone, whichever works)!

In addition, my character's stats are based on what I got in my Hector and second Lyn playthroughs. I'm just bringing this up to deflect any screaming vengeful Reaver impersonators from my house when I inexorably write the line, "Matthew is slower than Dorcas with three watermelons on his feet!" The line needs work, of course. But seriously, Matthew got _horrible_ stats in my game.

* * *

Night has passed. Shadows of grass haunt the plains of Sacae. All is one, oceans and mountains of grass swirl free and wild. Everything that can be seen is green and growing.

Two things stand out, however. One is the curled-up body of a huge axeman, clad only in green pants and blonde hair. The other is a small, nondescript pile of cloth. The axeman is curled tightly around himself, struggling desperately to keep his body heat inside.

The pile of cloth bucks, and jolts. Out pops a girl who looks fourteen, at the most. Her tight-braided, sea-green hair turns a shade of whitish-green as the sun plays down it, framing her face in an iridescent halo. She rubs feeling into her arms, stretching the rust-red skin inside her dusty, brown-purple cloak. She stands for a moment, lost in the glow of the sun once again.

She remembers no name. She is one with the grass that swirls around her and the wind that blows by her. Silently, she sways with the ocean of grass, smiling gently as she rides the crest of the green waves.

An endless line of names pour from her lips. She does not feel them all, and they make no sound as they pass, but she still speaks the names of people without number.

She is bidding a silent prayer to old friends. "Karel, Lugh and Lleu, Fir, Noah, Fa, Sue, Sophia... Roy and Lilina... goodbye, everyone. It was fun."

All at once, the traveler stops short and cracks a smile at the open grasslands. The smile is wide, beautiful, filled to overflowing with emotion. It went unseen by human eyes.

No one would ever see the sheer loneliness in that empty smile.

Still smiling, the girl pulls her legs together and stands as tall as she can, giving a military salute from a different world all the while.  
"I hope I can see you again," the girl whispered.

* * *

Batta blinked and awakened. The wind had picked up while he slept, and all of a sudden his stomach was freezing! He rubbed his cold tummy, making sure not to unplug the wooden bottle that held Lyn's soup. It was tasty stuff, that soup. Batta liked tasty things.

He looked out along the plains, to see what he could see. His headband was laying across his eyes, so he tugged it up with his thumb, but he didn't pull it off; he let the olive fabric tint the infinity of green grass. What he saw, though, almost made him rip his headband in half.

He saw the girl who'd called Lyn 'milady', dancing through the endless grass of the plains and whispering something as she went. He watched her move for what felt like hours; Batta had never seen anything as beautiful as the traveler's dance. He stared at her, his mouth just barely hanging open and his eyes stretched wide. He felt himself getting clumsily to his feet, walking closer to her.  
He didn't know the word 'spellbound', but if he did, he would've known the exact word to say how he felt.  
Chills ran down his spine as a shadow fell across him.

A voice in his ear suddenly yelled, "GOOD MORNING, BATTA!"

His scream was deafening.

Since she had wisely covered her ears, Lyn was free to laugh maliciously. "Come on, Batta! The sun is low in the sky as it is. Time to leave!"

Batta pointed to Vague, dancing silently in a sea of green grass. Lyn followed his finger, saw Vague's graceful steps across the land.

Like Batta, she was bewitched. Vague laughed happily, twisting and jumping through the tall, wiry grass, never once breaking a blade or crushing a root. She moved through the grasses as if she were no more solid than the wind, and jumped above them as if her body were no more heavy than a drop of water. A vision of green angels circled the dark-cloaked woman, all of them laughing with the voice of the wind.

Then Vague jolted to a halt, and the vision was gone. Lyn saw her pull her left hand to her forehead and hold it there, the edge of her hand jutting out against thick bone. Vague said something else that Lyn couldn't catch, and smiled.

All of a sudden, Lyn thought she felt ice under her skin.

Vague made her way to Lyn, marching delicately around the blades of grass, stepping between them with infinite care. "My lady?" she asked, a note of concern in her voice.

Lyn stood up straighter. "What?"

Vague's eyes filled with tears. "Just for a moment, you looked just like..." She trailed off as her expression faded back to its cold normalcy. "Never mind me, Lady Lyndis. It is of no importance. Have you thought about my offer?"

Lyn nodded. She'd been mulling it over all night. "Yes, I've been thinking. If anything you do could help me avenge my parents, anything at all-"  
"Wait a moment. There is something I must tell you about this training."

Lyn paused.

As Lyn looked on, Vague crouched low on her heels. In the same motion, her hands traveled forward to wrap around her calves at the same time her head lolled back. Lyn could only see her face at a sharp angle from the bottom. When Vague spoke, Lyn couldn't see her mouth drawing into a tight line. When she spoke again, harsh precision was the only thing Lyn could hear.

"Milady... Lyn... this training will hurt you. _I'll_ hurt you. I'll scar you. I will make you cry. If you're not lucky, I might even break your heart. It's happened before, and I have no doubt it will happen again." Her head lurched foward far enough to look Lyn in the eye. "Are you ready to take that chance?"

Lyn snorted. "Yeah, I'll take that chance. You're not _that_ pretty."

Vague rolled forward and burst up. Her hands darted out, slapped the ground and pushed her up. Her feet shot up, taking a tiny clod of dirt with her. She landed easily on the balls of her feet.  
She flashed Lyn a sharp grin. "Good. Then from now on, I am your teacher, your mistress. I will be your master tactician. And - once we get the necessary supplies, of course-" Vague rolled forward and burst up. Her hands darted out, slapped the ground and pushed her up. Her feet shot up, taking a tiny clod of dirt with her. She landed easily on the balls of her feet.  
"-I will make you my peerless warrior," she finished.

Sensing the dramatic tension of the moment, Lyn and Vague said no more. They simply looked at each other. While Vague was mentally suiting up her mistress with armor and weaponry, Lyn was finally taking in the body of her 'tactician'.

"You're a bit short to be a tactician, I think," Lyn finally said, barely thinking about what her mouth said.  
"You're a bit tall to be fifteen years old, but that isn't stopping me," Vague shot back.  
Lyn blinked. "What's that supposed to mean?"  
"It means you're going to be _very_ tall by the end of our training. That could be a problem; being short has its uses, believe me. Long legs can make you clumsy and uncoordinated."

"She's a better warrior than you!" added Batta, who was starting to feel left out. They ignored him.

"I'm as sure-footed as any Sacaen!" Lyn growled, caught off-guard.  
"Of course you are. As long as their feet were tied together."  
Lyn snarled at her.  
"Oh, how eloquent," Vague retorted. "Already I wonder why I decided to train you."

Lyn was on the brink of stabbing her and going off to train on her own when she thought about what Vague was saying. Then an idea dawned in her head. A strained smile broke out across her face.  
"This is a test, isn't it?"

Vague blinked at her. A moment passed before she replied to Lyn with a burst of laughter. It took her a moment to catch her breath.  
"Well, well, well, you're a quick one! That was faster than Leaf by a long shot, I don't mind saying. You're sharp, milady, very sharp indeed."

Lyn took the compliment stoically. "Thank you. I have a question?"  
Vague shrugged. "Shoot."  
"Who's Leaf?"  
Vague recoiled like she'd been stabbed. "Aya... Leaf." She fell silent. "A kind, noble fool. Still, a fool." She shook her head. "No, that's being unkind. Leaf was respectable."

Lyn shifted uncomfortably. A moment passed while she cast her gaze about, waiting awkwardly for Vague to continue. She didn't.  
Finally, Lyn decided to change the subject. "We should get going now. The way to Bulgar is more than a day's journey, and the day has already started." She grabbed Vague by the arm, and hauled her off.

Vague struggled for a moment, and easily broke free of Lyn's grasp.

Lyn stared at her. "What's wrong?"

Vague stepped forward, gently weaving her way through the grass. Her steps left no mark on the grass as she went. "I prefer to avoid killing, even such small things as grass. I just wanted to tell you. That's all."

Lyn hesitated for a moment. A breeze blew past her ear. "Oh. Okay. Vague, Batta. Let's go."

Batta got up from his back, stretching a little as he got to his feet. "Hello, ladies! Bet you're glad to see Batta the Beast is ready to help!"

Vague smirked at him. "Aya... even though the only thing _you_ could possibly help with is acting as Lyn's training dummy."

Lyn and Batta gaped at her together, then at each other, and back to her again. After some more time wasted on looking flabbergasted, Batta stuttered out "Th-th-that was a joke! Saint's staff, Lyn, the woman has a sense of humor!"

Vague laughed easily and said, "Yes, but she's a bit wordy. We should get going. Come, Batta. Milady."

Batta looked at her with a sense of wonder. "Wow... what a girl. I mean, she's smart, she's graceful, she's good-looking..." Lyn smacked him. "OW! That was my eye, you bitch!"

Lyn smirked. "Mind on the job, beastie-boy!"

Batta rubbed his eye. "Ow..."

With those last pithy remarks (and a black eye for Batta), they set off at last for Bulgar.

* * *

Meanwhile, in a Bulgar inn...

* * *

Two knights got up from their sleep. The first of the two was dressed in plain sable garments, and his reddish-brown hair was still neatly combed as he got up. The other was altogether more striking, dressed in a black shirt and white pants. His dark, greenish-blond hair was in disarray - not that that was out of the ordinary.

The sable knight grabbed the other by the hair. "Wake up, Sain. We were supposed to be searching for the child half an hour ago."

Sain woke up lazily, yawning and stretching gently on his bed. "(yawn)... Yes, Kent, I'm well aware of that. But haven't you ever felt how nice these beds are?" He smiled dazzlingly. "I mean, they're made of wool! Real, quality wool!"

Kent shook his head. "Sometimes I wonder how you became a knight with such a childish attitude." He hauled Sain out of bed by his hair, ignoring the man's screech of pain. "Now get on your armor. Just two more days in this town, and we can go back to the wenches of Caelin like _you_ so obviously wish to."

Kent loosened his grip, and Sain cursed at him so vividly that Kent's armor decided to blush for him.

"Briasi was not a wench! Neither was Quill, for that matter!"  
Kent gave him a long, hard stare.  
Sain spat. "Fine. But just because Quill is a wench _now_-"  
"**QUILL WAS THE FINEST KNIGHT IN OUR REGIMENT!**"  
"And now she's the finest wench in all of Caelin! Why are you so mad about that? Honestly, I think it makes use of her finest traits!"  
"Her finest traits were her lance arm and her husbandry!"  
Sain stared at him incredulously. "You have to be either joking, or gayer than a treeful of monkeys with too much fiber in their diet. Did you _not_ notice her breasts?!"  
Kent glared at him in silence.  
"They were the size of Old Man Wallace's head! She had to have special armor made for her!"  
"She did not! She just had to wear oversized arm... or..."  
"So you _did_ notice! I knew you were a proper man!"

Kent spat at him. "Get your armor on before I _show_ you what proper men do to **not**-so-proper men, you sleazy novice."

"You're no fun," Sain grumbled as he got on his lime-green armor. His striking sense of fashion really showed itself in the powerful interplay between white, green, and black. He looked like a truly heroic knight, a man who rode out in shining armor with a great lance. Then again, he was.

Kent hummed silently as he expertly tied his own straps on. His dull, rust-to-brown clothes were well complimented by his vicious-looking cinnabar armor. He looked like a stark, realistic knight, a vassal whose life was sworn to someone else. Then again, he was.

They emerged from the inn, clad entirely in their impressive armor. Kent went around back to check on their horses, while Sain tried to flirt with the stable girl. Kent kept one ear open for the girl's reaction.

He was not disappointed. After a few seconds, a voice rang out, "You pervert!", followed by a loud slap and Sain's customary response: "What an arm you have! I must shudder even at your love-taps!"

Kent shook his head. "It never works," he muttered. He grabbed his hair brush, and began gently combing his horse's mane. After a few minutes, Sain came around to join Kent, sporting a fresh, dark red hand-print on his cheek.

"You never learn, do you? How many slaps does that make this week alone? I've actually lost count of the exact number," Kent drawled on, "and I doubt you even _tried_ to count."

"Hah! That's where you're wrong, my uptight friend!" Sain declared. "I counted twenty-seven, if you include this one!"

Kent slapped him.

Sain smiled devilishly up at him. "And that's twenty-seven, sir Kent!"

Kent's harsh glare fractured in the light of Sain's grin. An unaccustomed smile slipped into the corners of his mouth. "We need to get moving. You've wasted enough time for the both of us." Turning away from his partner, Kent grabbed his sword and headed out the door.

Sain followed after, snatching up his lance on the way out. "I hope the Marquess' granddaughter is pretty. It would be such a waste if the girl we were looking for this whole time turned out to be a hag."

* * *

The next day, out on the plains...

* * *

Lyn's footsteps were growing heavy by the time they arrived in Bulgar. Her sword had been slapping against her thigh the whole way there, and each slap told her about the beginning of a bruise. Her legs throbbed with tiny cramps that riddled her knees and her ankles and her feet. She was still breathing easily enough, and the thin cut on her upper arm wasn't bothering her; that was more than could be said for Batta.

Batta matched her pace well enough, but in all other ways he was obviously worse off. His great axe dragged along the ground, cutting a coarse trench through the soil behind him. He breathed only in thick, heavy wheezes. It felt like each step he took ignited sparks in his legs. Sweat seeped from all over his body, soaked every inch of cloth on him. The salt wasn't doing any good to the cut she'd laid on his chest yesterday; by now, almost his entire torso was red from scratching.

In surreal contrast, Vague walked behind them without any effort at all. While the other two were heavily trudging forward, barely lifting their legs from exhaustion, she still had a spring in her step and a smile on her face. Her thick purple-brown cloak radiated heat, but she wasn't even sweating. She'd been acting as a scout for them, running into the horizon and back faster than Lyn would have believed, and the only sign of exertion she gave off was a single bead of sweat from her forehead. Batta hadn't even seen it.  
Even from the back, Vague was clearly the leader of this little group, if only because she was dealing best with the long hike.

"When... hah... do we... hah... get to... hah... _stop_?!" Batta wheezed. "We been... hah... marchin'... hah... _all day_!"  
Lyn shot him an irritated glance. "_I know!_" she screeched, "I was there! Just wait a minute! We'll be there any second now!"  
"Well, doesn't anyone have a vulnerary?! This cut on my chest is stinging like a bunch of bees made a nest in it!"

Lyn blinked at that. "Yeah!" She directed her voice at Vague now. "You were so quick on healing me before! And that was just a tiny, weeny little cut! Why didn't you fix me up when I got this?!" She brandished her arm at Vague like it was a sword.  
Vague's teeth clenched for half a second. "Because I want to teach you what I meant. The two of you, you feel your wounds, yes? If so, good. You've learned the value of using medicine as soon as you can."  
"IT FEELS LIKE BEES!" Batta screeched.  
"THEN DON'T GET HIT SO MUCH, MEAT SHIELD!" came Lyn's hawkish reply.

Vague sensed the argument coming. She was bowing her head in resignation when she caught a tiny noise, close by. "QUIET."  
They were quiet.  
"Do you hear that, milady?" Vague asked, voice rising in excitement.

Lyn and Batta pricked up their ears. A breeze whistled through the long grass around them. Some clinks and clanks rattled from their packs. Lyn thought she heard a tiny rasp of metal inside Vague's cloak.  
Then, they heard the muttering. Low, so low the two of them didn't even hear it at first... but powerful. So powerful it made the ground under their feet shudder. Voices came from over the hill, loud and supple and full of life.

Then they came over the hill. Noises that the earth itself had blocked out for awhile suddenly burst forth around her.  
The entrance to the town opened out into a huge, semicircular market. Loud indistinct muttering marked a crowd, and meaty smells carried on the breeze indicated that food was offered. Pots and ladles clashed loudly around the square. Fragrant tomato soup, vegetable stew, roasted venison shanks and fried mutton wrestled playfully for the first spot in arriving nostrils. A few shaded, covered stalls in the corner of the market were represented by delightfully loud men with wonderfully colorful hats. A few apprentices stood a little ways away, laughing uproariously about shared stories of the trade. Lyn noticed (with a tiny smirk of intellectual satisfaction) that some of them were girls.

Vague nudged past them, accidentally soaking her purple-brown cloak in Batta's sweat. With a smile on her face, she whirled around in front of them, stopping them in their tracks.  
"Here we are, milady. The great town of Bulgar."

Lyn was not impressed. "I've been here before, Vague. I kind of guessed." She turned to Batta, whose expression was pure excitement.  
His hands were clenched and twitching in sheer anticipation below his grinning face. In a high-pitched, giddy voice he squealed, "Bulgar! This is _Bulgar_! I've wanted to come here since I was a little boy!_** Eeee!"**_

Lyn snuck a hand over her mouth to hide the smile that crept over her face. "If you were any more of a child, you'd be play-fighting with sticks, mark my words. Yes, Batta. This is Bulgar, the biggest city in all of Sacae." Lyn shut off her tour-guide voice. "We should pick up some supplies."

With no warning, Lyn reached out and grabbed Batta's hand. "You stick by me, Batta. I don't want you getting lost and holding up our training."

Batta looked at the hand in his hand for a second. A boyish smile worked its way into his mouth as he said, "Better idea." Batta's hand shot out to grab Lyn's thigh, pushing in her leg's flesh and lifting her off her feet.

Lyn cried out like a hawk before she slammed down on Batta's shoulders.

Batta laughed out loud. "Ah-ha! It looks like Lady Lyn the Emotionless can be surprised!" He turned to flash a grin at Vague. He stopped when he felt the knife at his throat.

Vague's whispering voice came from behind him, rolling in like poison fog. "If you do that EVER AGAIN, I will find a way to kill you with your own hands. After I do, I will slice out your heart, your liver, and your kidneys. I'll feed your heart to a wolf, your liver to a falcon, and your kidneys to an Eliminean bishop served in a sauce made of white wine and boar blood. Do I make myself clear?"

Batta licked his lips. "Mmm... kidneys in boar blood. Sounds tasty."

Vague blinked at him slowly. "You do understand it would be your own kidneys? And you would be dead? And you wouldn't get so much as a bite...?" She groaned. "Clever threats are wasted on stupid people. Just put her down."

Lyn giggled nervously. "Uh, no, no, it's fine. I was tired anyway." She reached down and tried to pat Batta somewhere, and ended up smacking him in the face.

So, Lyn and Batta took their first steps into Bulgar, opposite in every way. Where Lyn was calm and looked vaguely annoyed, Batta was practically vibrating with excitement.  
Vague followed behind them, her face hidden behind her hands.

The three of them wandered for a minute, silently taking in the air of a town. It had been years since Lyn had seen so many people in one place, and Batta had_ never_ seen so many. All the clashing sights and sounds and smells that filled the air and filled their lungs and rang in their ears, all of them felt so wonderful and playfully frightening.

Lyn shifted on Batta's shoulders. "Hey, put me down!"  
Batta fell on his face. "Hurf yur gurf, Lurn," he told the dirt.  
Lyn glared at him. "You didn't have to do that, you big goof!"

Batta rolled over. "Yes, I did," he announced. "I did have to fall over. I didn't know how else to let you down."

Lyn felt herself being drawn to one of the shadowy stalls in the corner, where a tall Bernese woman with indigo hair was showing off the quality of her new axe. Lyn watched with fascination as the woman chopped easily through her old weapon's blade.  
"Batta could use one of those," she said absently.

Batta, meanwhile, was gravitating toward the food stalls. He smelled a very familiar scent coming from one of them, a mixture of sugar, butter, heated cream, and... something else, something he couldn't name, but Batta _knew_ that smell!  
"MELTING CANDY!" he yelled in delight. "Lyn, get over here! It's here! They have it!"

"Oh, my heart! What a dazzling vision of loveliness!"

Vague whirled toward the voice. Both of her hands dove inside her cloak, and in no time at all a flat knife lay against the inside of her arm, hidden from view.

Lyn heard it too, though she had a slightly less... tense reaction. She merely turned around and said, "Hm?"

A man on a horse, clad in tight green armor and hefting a fairly large lance, sang out to Lyn from a few feet away. "O, beauteous one, would you not favor me with your name?" He dipped his head low while shifting his weight subtly atop his steed, ducking low to the saddle. Vague smiled when she noticed a slight red handprint on his left cheek. Taking up a more husky tone, he gently got a hold on Lyn's hand and kissed it.  
"Or better yet, your company?"

Unseen, Vague's eyes flooded black.

Lyn was too exhausted to take her hand away; her arm hung loosely where the knight wasn't holding it. But then again, she might not have wanted to. She smiled a little. Batta might have heard a tiny giggle escape her throat.

Then the horseman lurched back in the saddle. A yell of surprise tore the air as he tumbled backwards from his horse. He landed on his back in heavy armor; it was no surprise that all his breath blasted out in a rush. What came as more of a surprise was a pair of lips just above his own.

As air came whistling back into his lungs, the horseman saw a strange girl hunched over him, harsh black fire burning bright in her eyes as the tip of a knife poked his ribs. She whispered bones and steel, echoing horribly in his ear:  
"You. WILL. NOT. TOUCH. MY LADY. Understood?"

In the next instant she was up, talking and smiling apologetically to the moss-haired woman he'd kissed on the hand.

"Just my luck. I always want the ones I can't get." Sain reflected for a second. "That could be the worst rejection I ever... oh, no, I'm wrong. There was that time with Quill..."  
He decided then to wait for Kent to arrive before asking these ones about the Marquess' granddaughter.

* * *

A few feet away, Lyn was scolding Vague.  
"I was having a nice time. He was paying _attention_ to me. Do you understand that?!"

Vague scratched the side of her head. A slender smile played over her lips as she said, "All too well, milady. In Grannvale, kiss-capturing was a popular game. It was almost expected among the commoners, actually." Her eyes widened the moment her words passed her lips. "Not that I was _nobility _by any stretch," she added quickly.

Lyn's look of mild anger turned to mild confusion. "Grannvale? What's Grannvale?"

Vague grimaced. "My apologies. I keep forgetting... For some time, Grannvale was the only place I could live. It was not the nicest place. Please, milady, leave it at that; I would greatly prefer to forget." Her head swiveled toward the shops on the corner. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have some business to take care of."

Lyn cocked an eyebrow at her.  
Vague sighed. "It involves your training. I wish for it to be a surprise." She smiled at Lyn. "And besides, I want to see if anyone is selling pumpkin-and-apple cider." She whirled around and walked away, trailing her purple-brown cloak.

Batta sighed next to Lyn. "Kiss-capturing? That guy gets the attention of a beautiful girl, and then _another_ girl right in a row? Murgleis and windstorms, I _wish_ I had that kind of luck."  
It was only after he was done thinking out loud that he noticed Lyn staring at him.  
Her eyes were wider than any other eyes Batta had ever seen. A tiny blush worked its way into her cheeks, which in turn were dimpled from her annoyed teeth-clench.

Batta shot a glance over his shoulder. Seeing nothing, he was no less confused. "What are you staring at me like that for?!" he demanded.

Lyn shook her head at him. "When you say 'beautiful', are you talking about me, or Vague?"

Batta put a finger to his forehead and chuckled. "Are you dumb or what? Of course I meant y-... wait a second. What number am I thinking of?"

Lyn blinked. "Uh... four?"

Batta wheeled around and took off screaming, "MIND READER! AAAAH!", waving his arms around and knocking down passers-by every step of the way.

* * *

**Not far away...**

* * *

Laramie had owned his armor shop for ten years now. He'd seen some strange customers in his time, and he'd made some strange pieces; one of his stranger buyers had ordered a single gauntlet, to be delivered the very next day. It was a piece of work, too, that gauntlet; it was made out of aged oak and some particularly fine silver.  
Yes, Laramie had seen some odd buyers in his time, but that didn't make him any less astonished at the girl before him. She looked fourteen, if even that; she looked like she couldn't lift a lollipop.

He raised one bearlike hand to itch his wide, waxy ear. Sucking a huge breath into his huge chest, he blew on his nails and rubbed them on his shirt.  
"So, girly, whaddaya want?"

The girl said nothing. Her hand shot into her cloak. After a short moment of jingling, she brought out a tiny piece of metal.

Laramie took the piece of metal with his left hand, protecting his stronger right hand with a smithy glove before touching the metal with it. He got his metallurgist's eyepiece out and put it on.

With the fine glass mechanism in his eye, Laramie could see tiny veins of char-colored metal running inside the chunk of metal.

Laramie leaned back. "So, girly. What's this?"

The girl smiled devilishly. "A sword made out of that'll outlast your whole bloodline. I'd say it's worth what I'm askin' for."

Laramie looked unimpressed. "Hmm... so whaddaya want, lady?"

The girl's smile dropped. "I want four sets of armor. Two have to be steel plate, two silver ring, one large and one small each. I'd like to help you forge that stone, too, and take one katana you make from the alloy. I'd also like the heaviest axe and the heaviest katana you have in stock. If you wanna take me up on that, I want that armor ready by daybreak. Tomorrow. Whenever you want to forge the dragonstone, just call for Vague and I'll be there in three days." She tapped the side of her head. "By the way, I realize you might want something more material than a promise. If so... this."

The girl reached into her cloak and pulled out a huge, heavy-looking lance. Along its length ran three black lines, clearly visible against the white shaft. At the end of the shaft was a razor-edged metal headpiece, split into three blades that formed a rough triangle at their tips. Even at this distance, Laramie could feel a rush of cold air emanating from the thing.

Laramie grinned powerfully at the girl. "I wouldn't give a plugged-up Bernese sewer drain for the stone, but that lance looks like a killer. Whatever you want, girly. I'll get you your armor!"

The girl smiled. "Good. Don't disappoint me."

* * *

Vague strutted proudly from Laramie's weapon tent. It was a relief to finally part with that ugly, heavy ice lance. She'd had quite a hard time keeping warm since she'd 'acquired' it in Etruria. It wasn't Maltet, and that was good; if it were a _legendary_ weapon of ice and snow, she'd _never_ get warm.

As she swept away the flies buzzing around her head, another thought came into her head: _'What if Lyn's second specialty is a lance...?_'

All of a sudden, the flies decided to find a new meal.

* * *

Laramie jumped as the girl burst into his tent again.

"I NEED THAT LANCE BACK!" she screamed.  
Laramie leaned on his elbow as a smile grew across his face. "How much is it worth to y-"

Without missing a beat, Vague chopped into Laramie's counter with a shining, gargantuan axe. He got the point.

Vague left the axe behind. It was only fair, after all, and maybe Laramie would get some use out of a silver axe with a killing edge.

* * *

As Vague walked back down the streets of Bulgar, her eyes caught a she caught sight of a familiar-looking man. The light caught his hair _just so_ that it shone golden and free, his armor darkened by contrast _just_ enough, his bland beige clothes at _just_ the right shade -

"CAMUS!"

Without another word, Vague rushed to the man and grabbed his elbow. "Camus the Sable! How did you get here?! I thought you were dead!"

Camus' head swiveled to face her. Vague barreled on, ignoring his looked of confusion.

"It's me! Don't you remember!? The girl in Marth's Le-" Vague blinked. All of a sudden, the world realigned itself. The gold in the man's hair darkened to auburn, his armor took on a vicious shade of red. On her second look, Vague wondered why in the world she'd thought, even for a second, that he looked like Camus the Sable.

At last noticing the eyes of the market upon her, Vague stepped away from the knight. She extended a hand toward him and said, "My apologies, sir knight. For a time, I believed I was looking upon another man I used to know. If I have insulted you, I do apologize with all my heart."

The knight looked truly surprised by Vague's odd eloquence. "You have not insulted me, ma'am. Pay it no heed." Ignoring Vague's outstretched hand entirely, the knight went back to haggling over the price of a bundle of carrots.

Vague prodded his shoulder. "Please, sir. I would feel quite out of place should you refuse me the privilege to make this right. Please. May I at least know your name?"

The man turned around, staring at her strongly. "As you wish, good lady. I am Kent. Have no fear, no insult passed your lips. Save your emotion for this... Camus, whoever he is. If your love for him is truly that strong, I have no doubt you will see him again." Again, he ignored her, turning back to pay for his carrots.

Vague smiled a tiny bit. "No, sir, Camus is not a man I love. I merely have... hmm... an obligation to another, shall I say, someone who does." She shook herself. "I'm afraid I must insist on repaying you. I have made a spectacle of you and I, and if my guess is correct, that is not to your advantage."

Half the people at market caught sight of the tension that formed on the man's spine at that moment. Vague was among their number.  
Kent murmured quietly, "What do you mean by that, woman?"  
Vague's eyebrow raised slightly at his counter-question. Her voice, when it came out, was toneless, yet filled with irresistible power. "What indeed. I've seen men on missions such as yours, sirrah. Men of evil and men of valor have gone on quests much like it, and I am doing my best to determine which category you fall under." She paused slightly, and added, "To put it bluntly, then: what is your mission, as your lord gave it to you, exactly?"

Kent's hand dipped toward his hip and, more importantly, his sword's hilt. Still, he kept talking.  
"My lord... the Marquess of Caelin... asked me to find his granddaughter."

Vague perked up at that. "Marquess...? You mean Eliwood? Hector? WHO?"

He flinched. His hand paused on its path to the sword. "Uh... no. My lord is the esteemed Marquess Hausen. It's a very important mission, and..." He trailed off when he noticed Vague's nodding.

"I see," Vague said. "Why do you need to find your lord's granddaughter?"

"Well, it's a long story, and..." Suddenly, Kent shook his head. He growled low in is throat as he said, "And this has nothing to do with _you_! Begone. You owe me nothing."

Behind him, something was happening to Vague. The childish curiosity that had filled her the moment she'd been reminded of Camus drained away. Her eyes swelled with tears, her voice cracked, her whole body shrank within her cloak. She took a shuddering breath...  
"Kent. Sir. Please, tell me."

Kent looked over his shoulder. "Why should-" He choked on the last word. The sight of Vague was too pitiful for words.

Vague swallowed a lump in her throat. "Because I have nothing else."

Kent looked down at his feet. His gaze slowly traveled upward and around at the rest of the people in the marketplace.  
"Come with me." Kent thrust his hand at her. "Away from prying ears."

Vague blinked. "As you wish, Sir Kent."

Together, they journeyed to a tent. The owner was selling spiced pumpkin-and-apple cider at three gold pieces a cup. As Kent reached into his coin purse, Vague grinned. '_Fool. At least you're a kind fool_,' she reflected.

* * *

Meanwhile...

* * *

Batta finally slowed down about halfway through the town, sweating through the already-thickened layer of dried sweat that covered his body like a gum sweatshirt.

Lyn (the mind reader) was following behind him, panting only a bit more lightly. "Batta! Get back here!"

"No! You'll eat my brain!"  
"I promise I won't eat your brain! Now will you come back here?!"

Batta flopped to the ground.

"Well, at least you're meeting me halfway," Lyn said hopefully.

* * *

Back at the market...

* * *

Kent watched the girl sip her cider. She gripped it with all her fingers at once, ignoring its searing heat and lapping at it like a parched dog-  
Kent slapped himself.  
-like a dehydrated hors-  
He slapped himself again.  
-like a thirsty toddler. Her eyes were shut rapturously while she sat and drank. Kent was about to say something, but she beat him to it.  
"Aya... this is wonderful," she breathed.  
"Hmm?"  
"The cider. It's been too long since I had some really good apple-pumpkin cider."  
"Hmm."  
"You haven't tasted any of yours, I see."

Kent blinked. "Oh. Haven't I? How rude of me." Without another word, Kent took a deep drag off his mug. He had neglected the heat radiating off of it.  
After he stopped coughing up bits of burnt esophagus, he decided to wait until it cooled off.

"So," he rasped, "what's your story?"  
The girl arched an eyebrow at him. "Story?"  
"Yes. Story."  
"I was under the impression that _you_ were going to tell me about _your_ mission. I wasn't counting on retelling a tragedy."

Kent nodded. "Hard to talk, though." He pointed to his throat as explanation.

She coughed. Or maybe she laughed. It was hard to tell. "Whatever you say, sir." She paused and laid her head on her fist. "Where to begin...  
The traveler took on the tone of someone discussing the weather. Her eyes glazed over, like a storyteller reciting their least favorite tale by heart. "The beginning is as good a place as any, I suppose. The first thing that happened to me was my birth. My mother died. My father followed her soon after. My brother, who was supposed to be born with me, died before he could. My uncle took me in before he, too, was killed. I was drafted into my nation's army before I even understood what an army was."

Here, she paused. A tiny, concerned light came back into her eyes. "I'm not a spy," she said forcefully. "Don't take the wrong meaning from I say. Anyway..." As quickly as it came, the emotion vanished. The traveler slipped back into that bored, disgusted tone like it was an old pair of travelworn boots.  
"Where was I. Oh, yes, of course. I was drafted into the army. I didn't do so amazingly well - after all, I was only a child - and so I was expelled. Time passed... and now, I'm traveling again, under a new name: Vague. As of two days ago, I gained some nice companions. One of them was so nice as to give me my new name. Batta, the self-proclaimed Axe King of Sacae, is one of my companions, and the other is Lyndis of the Lorca. There's a lot of potential in both-... What's wrong?"

Kent was clawing at his throat and gargling nastily. He flopped on the ground, writhing in horrible spasms and choking like a fish on a hook. He finally propped himself up on his elbow, while his nose pointed straight at the ground.  
"Aghk, huk, gahahk, guh... Lo- guhahk, kha, pah!"  
Kent hacked a mouthful of cider mixed with saliva out on the ground of Bulgar.

The girl spoke again. "What's wrong?"

Kent choked out the word, "Lorca. You said Lorca!"  
The traveler's mouth hung open in sarcastic surprise. "Really? I couldn't hear myself." Apparently, she could read Kent's thoughts well enough, since she stopped talking and flinched as if she'd been cut. Her voice was like ice as she began again. "Yes, Kent. I said Lyndis of the Lorca. Do you have a problem with my choice of companion?"

"NO." Kent's instant response cut through her words like a hot razor. There was no mistaking it, he was getting mad. "Lyndis of the Lorca is the reason Sain and I came out to Bulgar."

The rest of the girl's face went stony, but her eyes flew open.  
Kent leaped away as fast as he could, his fury bursting apart faster than it came. Something dangerous lurked behind that girl's eyes.

Her voice went cottony and soft, slurring past the words instead of speaking them. "I thought you were sent here to look for your lord's granddaughter," she warbled slowly.

He'd have to choose his words carefully.

"Yes, that is what I came here for." He collected his thoughts and pieced together the stories he'd heard around the castle during his time there. It wasn't too hard, really; he'd heard the tale over a hundred times, and that was a conservative count. "You see, twenty years ago, milord's daughter Madelyn... well, to put it bluntly, she eloped with a Lorcan nomad. Milord was furious. He swore to the Lady that if she left, she would be forsworn from her family."

Kent paused to take a breath. He made good use of his time to try and gauge what the wide-eyed girl was thinking.  
She didn't look any nicer.

Kent shuddered. "You have to understand, milady Madelyn was a headstrong woman. She was very determined at the best of times... or so I've been told." Kent gave Vague a conspiratorial smile. She didn't return it. "Anyway, the strength of her head was very much in evidence as she took her father at his word. She cut all ties to the palace, ran to Sacae, eluded capture by Wallace, the Stone Wall of Caelin himself along the way, and escaped into the plains. The rest, as they say, is history."

Silence hung around them. Kent looked away from the girl. Apparently, letting her know had appeased her. He heard someone clapping slowly, not far off. He looked up and saw the traveler, grimly staring down at him. He hands clapped together on a slow beat.  
"Very nice," Vague hummed, still clapping, "but that doesn't explain why you're here."

Kent arched an eyebrow. "How does it not? I told you what happened."

"Yes, you did. And apparently, forswearing his child was exactly the push Hausen needed to make himself come to grips with his paternal instinct, is that right?" Her sarcastic smile fell away like snowflakes. "Or did you just come here to steal a child from her mother?"

He couldn't even speak anymore. His heart was pounding in his chest. His hand was clenched and frozen over his sword's hilt, unmoving. His eyes vibrated with the sheer effort of forcing himself to stay still. Kent was madder than he'd ever been in his life.

Still the woman taunted him! "For shame, Kent! You're a knight of Caelin Court, not some kind of lowly brigand! And here you are, about to draw your sword on an unarmed maiden girl!" She cruelly chuckled at him. "What would your liege say to you now? Do you think he would let you so much as shine his shoes if he saw you as you are?" She was silent for a second. "How did you join the Knights Caelin, anyway? Peasantry have to give some show, some kind of proof, before they are accepted, yes? You had to be among these. You don't smell of a born noble. A lowborn dog is not put in the royal kennel until it fetches the right bone." She smirked. "Whose bone did you have to fetch?"

Kent's hand swept toward the girl, missing her by about a foot before it lost momentum. As it slammed against his chair's frame, Kent jerked and glanced down at his hand.

Vague showered a death-head grin on the knight. "You meant to draw your sword on me, didn't you."  
Kent stared at his hand. His breathing came in harsh now. "Elimine," he breathed. "Elimine help me, I wanted to strike down a little girl..."

Vague reached over to pat him on the shoulder. "It's fine. No one would believe it anyway."

"What?"  
"No one would believe it. What could I possibly do that could make you so mad? No, Kent. It never happened."

Kent flinched. "But I-"

"Lyn doesn't need to know, does she. I don't need complications." Vague smiled at him with teeth like nails. "Perhaps now you understand, though; I am not willing to be trifled with. Just take a look at your sword."

Kent obeyed. His sword was a plain iron sword with a standard cross-guard, nothing much to look at and nothing of interest to... well, anyone.  
"You see that little twig in the sheath?" Vague queried.  
Kent squinted at it. "Yes," he said slowly. "What about it?"

Vague bit her lip at him in frustration. "Try to draw your blade."

Kent obeyed. His sword was stuck tight. He tugged on it, bent it under his heel, and still it didn't come out. "What...?" he gasped, "what's going on?!"

Vague smirked sardonically. "That twig is keeping your blade sheathed. Just take it out and your weapon will go free."  
Kent tugged out the twig with little effort. After that, his blade slid out of its sheath like an arrow from its string. "Wow... When did you...?"

Vague patted him on the shoulder. "It's all right, Kent. But remember, I can do it again if I need to." She squeezed once, tightly, and let go. "Don't give me a reason to do it. Now, I assume you're looking for Lyndis specifically. Is that true?" Kent said nothing. "Is that true, Kent?"

Kent nodded. "Yes." His head, bowed in shame, came up at a thought. "Um, I forgot to mention something. A few months back, Madelyn sent word to Lord Hausen. Apparently, she'd had a daughter a full fifteen years ago, and named the girl Lyndis after her dearly departed mother. When milord learned of this, his heart melted for her." He cracked a weak smile on Vague, who smiled back at him almost aggressively. "Lord Hausen ordered Sain and I to bring Madelyn, her husband and her daughter back to Caelin if they would come. I think- what?"

A skeletal cackle slid out of Vague's throat. "Oh, don't mind me. You'll get it eventually." She blinked as if a thought occurred to her. "I could bring you to Lyn. Do you want that, sir?"

Kent nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Vague shook her head. "Call me Vague, sir. It_ is_ my name, after all." She turned around. "Come."

* * *

In the meantime, Lyn and Batta had found their way to an inn. They got a room on the second floor. It didn't have a doorknob, just a steel bar that acted as a lock.

Lyn shoved the door open with a grunt. As light from the hotel's corridor filtered in, Lyn saw how bare the room was. Splintery unvarnished wood made up the floor, though to be fair it was clear of junk. Apart from the bed, the only scrap of furniture she could see was a small drawer in the corner. The only source of light inside the room was a smoky lantern, right next to the window.

Batta, of course, immediately flopped down on the bed. After wasting a few minutes trying to find an empty spot, Lyn just flopped down on top of him.  
"Unhf," Batta puffed.

Batta was big enough to ignore Lyn's weight without a problem. He stretched out luxuriantly on the bed. Lyn gurgled angrily at him to make him stop. He stopped.

Lyn hummed. The second Batta was settled in, she stretched easily out on top of him. "Ahh..." she breathed.  
_'Bitch,_' Batta thought as loudly as he dared. Much to his surprise, Lyn did nothing.

A few minutes passed. Batta lay on top of the bed, saying nothing. Lyn lay on top of Batta, making the exact same contribution to the art of conversation.

They were too tired to sense the sexual tension, but then again they would be too tired to care if they did.

* * *

A few minutes later - after Lyn fell asleep and Batta was about to - the door to their room creaked open. Batta lazily opened one eye at the door. A small human silhouette stood in the doorway. Its outline was obscured by a flowing piece of cloth, perhaps a cape or a cloak.

A voice like the Ending Winter and a thousand knives drifted from the shadow.

"What's going on here, beastie-boy?"

Batta froze in place. "I was s-sleepy," he stammered. He wasn't sleepy anymore.

"Did you forget what I'm capable of? Couldn't you see how serious I was when I told you to stay away from her?"

"What are you talking about?!"

The shadow detached itself from the door frame and came inside. Tight. lime-green braids encircled its head, forming a shimmering tiara on top. As the shadow entered, light from outside fell across its face.

Vague's onyx-black eyes glinted at him like the edge of a razor. She was not laughing.

"Batta. Since you seem not to understand what is happening, I think I shall simplify it for you. Would you be so kind as to inform me what Lyn is doing on top of you?"

Batta thought for a moment. "Sleeping...?"

Vague's lips parted to show her teeth. It filled only the technical qualifications of a smile; no one would ever make the mistake of putting her expression in that category. Batta's mind was thrown back into  
(_howling_ - _jaws_ - blood dripping on his arm -_ teeth_ - fangs snapping - a wolf, biting - **mama** **dead** _ripped apart -_ night - shadows and blood - howling - HOWL - **HOWL**)  
an old nightmare. He shivered.

On top of Batta, Lyn moaned in her sleep. "Suh muf... her lob..." She snorted and shifted on Batta's back. "...fuhm ahh..." She turned and shifted again toward the edge of the bed. "Guh hahm...maaAAAAAAGH!"

Lyn fell off the bed at that last part. Now she was awake, too.

Suddenly, another shadow filled the doorway. This one was bigger than Vague, and moved slowly, almost like a man in armor. A manly voice rang out from the hall: "Lady Lyndis! Are you all right?!"

Lyn reached up to her head and rubbed. "Ahm... m' okay... Who...?"

The armored man came into the light with an apologetic look on his face. "Ah, sorry. Wrong room."

Vague's hand clapped down on his shoulder. "Hush. I'll explain."

Vague stole in next to Lyn. Lyn looked up with bleary eyes at her tactician. "Your eyes are blue," she mumbled.

Vague's sky-blue eyes twinkled for a moment as she nodded. "They're whatever they need to be, milady. Now..." Vague's hand slipped free of her cloak. She twitched.

Something _thunk_ed into the wood next to Lyn's ear, making her jump. Lyn jerked to look at whatever it was.

A knife stood quivering in a tiny gap between two planks, almost pushing through them. It _would_ have pushed through, if the guard didn't flare out to the sides, as well as the front of the hilt. Its hilt was veined with bright red and worn smooth, with the mark of countless owners and customary use.

"Wake up."


	3. The Wolf

HEY, MOTHERFUCKERS! I finally got up the third chapter! Thanks for reading so far! This is where the profanity gets cranked up to eleven. Beware, ye of olde fashion!  
I tweaked the dialogue on some of the earlier chapters, so check 'em out!

Really, I don't know what I'd do without you guys' support. I _do_ know it would be really boring, though : )

Just as an FYI, I'm gonna give you a minor spoiler: Lyn isn't free for any romances. She's taken. I'm not saying who with, but if you look close you might figure it out.

By the way, some of the sharp-eyed members of the audience might notice that my description of Vague's eye color changes from time to time. There's a reason for that. I swear, I have a reason for that.

And yes, there is a God in Fire Emblem! I swear there is!

Vague's battle song (which may show up in this chapter, maybe the next one) is "Depressive Visions of the Cursed Warrior", by Burzum. It's on YouTube.

* * *

"Elimine's blood!" Kent cried.

"Holy shit!" Batta and Lyn yelled in unison.

"Shut your mouths," Vague scolded as she reached down and tugged her knife out of the floor. "Lyn's fine. See? The knife didn't even touch her."

Lyn was up in a jolt. "What's wrong with you! You threw a knife at my face!"

Vague slapped her, very gently, on the cheek. "Wrong. I threw a knife _next to_ your_ ear_. And I only did that to wake you up fast. There's someone here who needs to talk to you, and he can't stay."

Kent whirled on her then. "Lady Lyndis is my business here! How can you say I-"

Vague turned a pair of burning crimson eyes on him. "I SAID. HE CAN'T STAY." She turned to Lyn with a friendly smile. "By the way, the man beside me and cloaked in armor is called Sir Kent, and he is one of the knights of Caelin Court. He's got a few words for you, Lyn." She nodded. "If you'd be so kind as to talk to him..."

Lyn nodded back. "Out in the hall. It's less crowded."

She stripped off her gloves and tossed them over at the austere little drawer in the corner. They touched down about halfway there, one folded and wrinkling inside the other. The second she tossed them, she went to the door, grabbing Kent along the way.

Vague slipped around Lyn and toward the bed. If Batta was getting uncomfortable with Lyn on top of him, he was _definitely_ gonna be uncomfortable with Vague in her place. He whimpered.

Vague curled down in front of him. When she stopped moving, she was balanced on the balls of her feet, all her body held up by the edge of her boots. Her hands clasped around her knees and kept her body balled up. Her cloak spread itself out on the floor like a patch of violet oil.

And her eyes... black as coal, black as night, black as sin. They sparkled like glass at him, but the emotion in them was unreadable. A flash of rusty red - her eyelids - passed over them for a split second, making Batta jump. Vague was good at making people jump, he noticed.

"So."

One word passed her lips. Batta waited for her to say something else, but she didn't. She just stared at him like  
(wolf - HOWL - _blood_)  
an animal. Besides, Batta swore he could hear whispering from the room itself. It was goddamned unnerving.

Finally, the tension in the room got to him. "Gah! What does 'so' mean?! So what?! Why are you staring at me like that?!"

"I like to know what my people's reflexes are like." Vague's voice was cold and somehow detached from her movements. It was like her mouth was moving just a tiny bit slower than the rest of her; the second 'like' filled the air before she'd begun forming it.

Batta flinched at her. "Fuck, woman! How is it possible to be so creepy?!"

Vague chuckled lightly at him. "Years of practice, kid. Years of practice." Her expression went serious again. "Now, if you will. _What were you doing in milady's bed?_"

Batta blinked. "Uh, sleeping...? I'm kinda tired."

Vague frowned. "Aya, I bet. Sleeping with a girl on top of you because you're _sooooo_ tired. Yeah. Sure. Right." Even her frown fell away, chased by a deeper, more frightening look. "WHY ARE YOU IN LYN'S BED?"

"I was sleeping! You made us march for two days straight! I'M A HUMAN BEING, YOU CUNT! I need rest!"  
Vague stopped short. "Oh." She looked away. "Sorry. It's just... things happen sometimes. If you can forgive me..."

Batta turned away. "Just let me sleep. I'm sleepy."

Vague nodded. "As you wish." She stood up and walked to the door. There, she paused and turned back. Her braids fell from her head like a slashed noose as she declared:  
"If you try anything with Lyn, I will inflict it tenfold upon **_you_**. That's a promise."

She slipped out, taking a blanket with her.

Batta started snoring soon after. Scary as Vague was, she was nowhere near as scary as the thought of going without sleep for another day.

* * *

"...so milord sent Sain and I here to take your mother back, along with her new family," Kent finished.

Lyn's face fell. "Oh. That's..." A bitter frown crossed her mouth. "That's... just fine. You came late, though." Her face shrank inward. "**Too** late."

Kent's eyebrows went up in curiosity. "What do you mean? All we have to do is get your family and you can... go..." He trailed off. His gaze fell away from Lyn.  
"Oh." It was a whisper. Nothing more.

At least a few minutes passed. It could have been an hour. It felt like longer to the two of them.

Kent glanced up at Lyn. "When did it happen?"

"Three months ago." Her tone was like chipped wood; short, sharp, cold, and quick to dull.

Another minute passed. Kent fiddled with a strap on his armor, wishing desperately for a thought to come to him. "What... I mean, how did it happen?"

"Bandits." She paused. "The Taliver."

Kent frowned. "I'm sorry."

"Did you send them?"

Kent's head jerked up. "No! Of course not!"

"Then don't be sorry." Lyn slumped. Kent only now realized how tired she looked; her face looked like a carved stone whose lines had faded away almost to nothing.

He fingered the strap around his wrist without really noticing it. He looked down, hoping valiantly Lyn would not make him look at her again. He had no wish to see any of his masters so downtrodden. In a deep-down corner of his heart, he wished Sain was here.

"Lyn."  
"...Yeah?"  
"May I... share your room?"

Lyn smiled.

Kent suddenly heard his own voice, repeating that last question: _'may I... _share_... your_ room_?'_

"I mean...! I don't mean... My coin purse is nearly empty. I might not afford another night in an inn, that's all." Kent cursed inwardly at himself. That was all he needed, to make his liege wary of him at their first meeting! He sounded like Sain!

"Of course, Kent."  
"Ah... Th-thank you, milady. Very kind of you."  
"You might find it a little... crowded, though."

Kent's mouth opened. Was his lady... propositioning him? How did a sworn servant act in this situation?  
"Uh..."  
"Batta's in there too. He's hogging the bed."

"Oh. Of course." Well, this was awkward. "Forgive my impertinence for asking, but... is Batta... is he your...?"

Lyn's lethargy flew off instantly. "Him?! Eww! I'm fifteen years old, you freak! What's wrong with you?!"

Kent put his hands in the air defensively. "I'm sorry! I had to ask. Please, do not hold it against me."

All of a sudden, Kent remembered something that had been bugging him for a while now. Where was his partner?  
To Lyn's eyes, Kent suddenly leaped up in the air and started waving his hands all over the place."OH! Milady Lyn! I just remembered, I have to go and get my partner Sain. I'll be back in a mere moment!"

* * *

Meanwhile, in a dingy bar not too far away...

* * *

"Your hands must be very strong to hold an axe that huge."

The Bernese woman flicked a tangle of dark blue hair from eyes and glanced over the bar, at the voice. She wasn't really in the mood to talk at the moment. In fact, that was why most people came to the Leaking Barrel; there wasn't much call for talking even at the place's gabbiest. Starting a conversation in the Leaking Barrel was like chanting 'Fire! Fire!' at an angry mage, and the end result wasn't that far off. It usually involved less magic, but that was where the differences ended; there were plenty of burning bodies in the end either way.

"I mean, there aren't many women who could heft around a wolf Beil like that. You must've had a lot of conditioning." The voice's owner slipped in closer. His voice went lower, ducking into a rasp. "To be honest, I think it's kind of attractive."

The woman raised an eyebrow at him, more out of curiosity than anything else. "Really..."

The man swooned at the powerful sound of her voice. "My word! You have the voice of a wildfire, no doubt about it!"

She smiled despite herself. Yeah, she was right, he was hitting on her. She didn't particularly care; he was cute enough, sure, but she was tired. It'd been a long day; she'd made her way to Laramie's blacksmith, collected the wolf Beil she'd ordered all those months ago, and spent the better part of the day beating the piss out of some local muggers with it.

She found herself talking anyway. "You know, you talk too much."

The man smiled wide at her. "Yeah. People call me Speaker Sain. That's my name, Sain. I hate introducing myself to people who don't introduce themselves back, you know. I feel like they're not talking back, d'you get my drift? So, anyway, could I be so unrefined as to ask your name, milady?"

She smirked at him. "You can always ask." She let her eyes wander past him, like she didn't care. To tell the truth, she was starting to.

The man in armor... or rather, Sain, spoke up again. "Okay... what's your name? I like to know who the pretty girls are," he added confidentially.

The woman thought about it for a minute. "Kay." He stayed quiet for a minute. She knew that silence, it happened every so often. "That's my name. Kay Eiche."

Sain nodded. "Of course. Why didn't I see that already? Of course a thoughtful lady would have a thoughtful name!" He leaned in at her again. "I like your name, miss Eiche. It's very pretty." He giggled a little.

Kay leaned an eyebrow at him. "What's so funny, friend?"

"Your name!" Sain replied instantly, laughing openly now. "Your name is K.H.! That's kind of funny, you have to admit!"

Kay smirked vengefully. "Yeah, but I got one up on you, you gay guy! Your boyfriend is in Sain! HAH!"

Sain didn't laugh (he'd heard jokes like that before), but he had to smile. That one had at least a _little _creativity, and Kay had a flair for dirty jokes.

Kay's gales of laughter took their time to peter out. "Aaaah... Anyway. I meant what I said the first time around. I do like you." The smile on her face fell away. "But not today. I'm tired. How about we get together when we have time?" She leaned closer to him. "Time to spend **_alone_**...?"

"I'd like that," Sain said dreamily.

"I won't be tired tomorrow. I'm staying at the Split Arrow. The second room on the left balcony." She fixed a smoldering gaze on him. "I don't lock the door."

Sain darted forward and lightly kissed her on the cheek. "I'll be there," he promised.

Suddenly, the door to the Leaking Barrel swung open. In came a mahogany-haired man in scarlet armor, one hand swinging the door open, the other clutching a plain sword. His eyes darted around the room before they closed on Sain.

"Sain! Get over here, now! And I don't want any of your lip!"

Sain bolted at the man, stopping short right in front of him. Kay slipped closer.

Sain looked vaguely mad. His nostrils flared a little when he opened his mouth. "God damn you to hell! I just made an arrangement with this fine-"

A sword's rounded pommel whacked him in the forehead. "Stop blaspheming and listen to me! This is important!" The red-haired man grabbed Sain and pulled him in close. For a second, Kay thought he was going to kiss him.

"I found her."

Sain's groan stopped instantly as he snapped to attention. "You did?! When?! Where was she?!"

"A few minutes ago. She was in a hotel room, sharing it with a red-skinned girl and a mountain man. I told her our mission, and I think she's going to come back with us."  
Sain gaped at him. He blinked slowly a few times, his eyelids heavy with disbelief. "Kent! I'm impressed! You convinced Madelyn to-"  
"No." Kent's word came out slow and hung painfully on his tongue. "Lyndis. The girl."  
Sain smiled. "Still, that's good! We won't have any trouble getting Madelyn to go back as well!"  
Kent shook his head. "Madelyn will be a bit more difficult to return, I fear. She... she is with her husband." He looked away, overcome with despair.

It took him a moment, but Sain understood. He gasped once, quickly, and fell silent.  
"Oh." The sound was tiny even for a whisper, and faded away. Silence held him again, for a moment. "How?"

Kent sighed, as if someone had asked him to retell a personal tragedy. In a way, though, he was. "The Taliver. A group of bandits who operate out of the mountains that border Bern and Sacae. The rumors I've heard about their raids are... barbaric. Vicious. Horrifying." He shuddered. "If even half of them are true, Lyn has my very deepest sympathies."

Sain was silent for a minute. Most any other time, that would have put a smile on Kent's face (after all, Sain _did_ talk too much). But now... this was too horrible. Even in part, they had failed in their task. The last child of their lord was now his _only_ child.

"I... I have something to take care of," Sain muttered.

Kent waved him off.

Sain turned around and almost knocked into Kay. He hopped back a step. "Ah! You... ah... scared me," he explained.

Kay nodded quietly. "Yeah. You okay?"  
Sain gave her a somber nod. "Yeah."  
Kay stared at him. "So... is he in Sain?"

Sain stared at her for exactly half a second.

After a few minutes, Kent was getting nervous. "He doesn't usually laugh that long. Or that loudly. At least, not at nothing," he informed Kay.

Kay just smiled at him. "It makes sense in context."

Sain finally dragged himself on to a stool and gasped to a stop. "Ah... Ah ha ha... haaaaa... Ah. Ah, no, no he's not. He is not, as you so delicately put it, in Sain. I don't intend for him to ever _be_ in Sain."

Kay smirked all at once. "I know. I was just fuckin' with you." She bit a fingernail. "So what were you guys talking about over there? And did I hear talk of a lady?"

All humor fell out of Sain the moment he nodded. The laughing bounce he called a voice went grim. "Milady Madelyn and Lyndis of the Lorca, her daughter. Kent - my armored friend here - and I were sent to retrieve them as long as they wanted to come back. Madelyn's husband, Hassar, was to come with us, if he could." Sain's words began to stick in his throat. "But it seems we can't do that now."

Kay nodded. "I see." She looked away for a moment. "Sorry."  
Sain nodded back. "Yeah."

Silence filled the Leaking Barrel once more, except for an occasional clank of mugs on wood, or a burp, or a hiccup. Kay felt closely along the grip of her wolf Beil, and eventually chose a loose bit of leather to pick at. Sain fiddled with the paired twine straps on his gauntlets, tying and retying them endlessly.

Kay was the first to speak up. "You don't have to come tomorrow."  
Sain looked up from the strap. "Hmm?"

"I have a few things I needed to do anyway. But, uh... it's the fourth, right?" She looked at Sain, who nodded. "I'll be in town every month or two, if you feel like seeing me again." She smiled shyly as she said it.

Sain traded a gentle smile of his own. "Yeah... I'd like that. It might be a while, though," he warned.  
"I can wait. I'm good at waiting." Kay sat down, cross-legged, and looked back down at her axe. "I wait a lot, it seems," she said wearily.

All of a sudden Sain hated himself. He'd made a girl sad. What could he do to make it better...?

"Kay."

She looked up. A pair of soft lips came down to meet hers. Kay blinked.

The lips came away, and Kay knew for sure what she'd already known. Sain smiled softly down at her with weepy eyes, looking for all the world like an Eliminean angel that came down from the clouds just for her, and was going back there now that his work was done.

Kay grinned. "You're good at that."

Sain's smile went childish on her. "Thanks. Be back soon!"

Kent reached around him to pat her on the shoulder. "Don't worry, ma'am. I'll take care of the big baby for you." He turned to Sain. "Now, we should get back to Lyn. I don't fancy the thought of her being alone with Batta."

"Batta?"

Sain and Kent turned to look at Kay.

Her indigo hair hid her face behind a shadowy curtain. The leather grip of her axe squeaked under her clutch. "Are you talking about... Batta, the Axe King?"

Kent wracked his thoughts on that one. "Um... yes, I think that's what the girl called him. Why do you ask?"

Kay smiled up at him innocently. "Oh, nothing. I just have to talk to him. I thought he was dead, you know."

Sain raised an eyebrow at her. "Actually, no, I didn't. So you know Lyn?"

Kay shook her head. "Nope." She put a hand to her thick chin. "Actually, I... might have heard the name before. If I did, I don't remember it." She smiled again. "I just know Batta. If your man is Batta, I'll know him. Take me with you!"

Kent and Sain glanced at each other quizzically.

"It couldn't hurt," said Sain.  
"And it might help to keep Lyn safe," Kent helped.

They shrugged as one. "Sure," they overlapped.

Kay closed her eyes, squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. When she let it out, it went in a soft, foggy hiss, the air in her lungs whispering out with a feeling of calm.  
Her eyes flipped open. In a voice like a hawk flying above the clouds, Kay said,  
"I'm ready."

* * *

Batta woke up with a snort. He was shivering.

His back was getting cold by now. Lyn had been out in the hall for half an hour now, and to be honest, Batta was getting nervous. He felt like he had all those years ago, that night he'd joined the little guild. The night  
_(mama)_  
his guardian had died. He felt all alone, cold, scared.

Was Lyn still out there? He couldn't hear her - but then he could barely hear anything outside his room. Still, he'd promised to get her where she was going, and Batta had a feeling Bulgar was only the first stop. He'd promised. Twice. He'd get her where she was going twice. He'd promised.

The cut on his chest still felt horrible. It wasn't as bad as it was on the long hike, but it felt like a wolf had been clawing at him about a week ago. He should go take a bath.  
Huh. All of a sudden, that didn't sound too bad. A nice, hot bath, some fresh warm water to clean his wound... yeah, that sounded good.

Batta rolled himself off of the bed and stumbled out of the room. He nodded at Lyn as he passed.  
"I'm going to take a bath," he mumbled as explanation.  
"UGH! Did you need to tell me?! That's disgusting! Why would you tell..."

He ignored her as he made his way to the front of the inn and looked around for a doorman. One huge man stood near the door and held out his hand as people passed him. Batta tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hmm?" the doorman grunted. Batta thought he saw the door frame rumble with the man's basso voice.  
"Do you know where I can find a bath?" Batta asked quietly.  
The doorman chuckled. "Yeah. Just down that hall. Third on the left. Lycian bath room. Bring your own towel. If you have one, that is," he rumbled.  
"Thanks," Batta said fluffily. "Thanks, man."  
"My pleasure."

Batta dragged his feet all the way to the bath room door, and opened it up. A rush of hot, damp air flew to meet him. Batta caught a whiff of rain and the ocean beneath all the soaps and perfumes. All of a sudden, he remembered another name for Lycian baths: hot springs.  
"Ah..."

Batta shut the door cautiously, making sure it didn't scrape the floor. As he did, he noticed a hook hanging on the inside of the door. "Why is there a hook on the door? And where am I supposed to put my clothes?!"  
For the second time in three days, a light bulb shone above his head.

_**The fundamental things apply, as time goes by...**_

A few minutes later, Batta was more relaxed than he'd ever been in his life. That little hook was getting a lot of use as a back scratcher, and his clothes fit just about perfectly in the hole he'd made when he finally got it off the door. Batta, much to his delight, was splashing through water warmed in the earth itself. The grime his body had accumulated over the course of the last month melted off and flowed away in thin, dark streams. The smell of dried and drying sweat, that smell he'd stopped smelling so long ago... it was gone. Gone.  
In its place was something sweet and earthy, and just a little bitter. He couldn't quite remember what it was called.

Batta stayed in the Lycian bath until he didn't feel the grit in his hair anymore. It took about twenty minutes, and now his skin was wrinkled as a dried peach. He shook himself as dry as he could, wiped off the last drops, and put his clothes in the water.

Instantly, the water blossomed in a reddish-brown cloud. The faded colors on his clothes began to show through the unbelievable layers of dirt and sludge and caked-on grit that crusted his clothes. Oddly enough, just a few swipes with his hand knocked most of the dirt off. Batta took his newly-recolored clothes out of the water and wrung them out with his thick, muscular hands. As he took a closer look, Batta took one strip of cloth out of the rags and put it back in the water.

He breathed. This needed focus. He shut his eyes.

His fingers felt along the fabric of his headband. A couple of loose fibers came away in his hand, but that wasn't important. His index finger slipped along the weave and finally caught... _it_.

He grabbed its other edge and started scrubbing powerfully. Any small piece of grime that still clung to it was swept away in a second by a fingernail, or a leathery thumb, or just a drift of water. Batta smiled at the edge of feeling. It was clean.  
His mother's bracelet was clean.

He wrung it out and dried the fabric. The silvery crystal emblem shimmered ethereally in the damp air. The band that held it sort of sparkled, mint-and-jungle green, amazingly bright and deep and colorful. Like Lyn.

A mix of emotion filled Batta's mind as he looked at it. _Mama's bracelet... my band... the family heirloom._ It was just as beautiful as his mother; or at least, that's what he believed. That's what he hoped.  
He couldn't remember her face.

He slowly lifted the band up to his head. With shaking hands, he looped the ends up, in, over, under, out. The knot held even when he tugged on it. He was improving.

There might have been tears in his eyes. Then again, it was really humid in there.

All of a sudden, the door to the bath swung open. Batta whirled around just in time for a towel to slap him in the face.

"Hey! You forgot a towel!" Lyn called just before slamming the door.

"Gur khir yursof!" Batta garbled through the cloth. Grumbling and cursing under his breath, he wiped the water from his hands and sopped it off his clothes.

A minute later, he emerged from the bath totally clean and fully clothed. Without a word, he made his way back to their room. On the opposite side of the hall, a haphazard cluster of blankets piled against the wall, almost blocking entrance to their room. Batta walked around them without a second thought.

Right as he was about to open the door, something grabbed his ankles. He stepped forward on instinct, losing his balance and falling into the wall. The second he touched the walls, something slammed into his back.

It took him a moment to understand the icy voice buzzing in his ear.

"...y's room I will cut your hands off, melt the fat, trim off the meat, and carve the bones into chopsticks. Do you hear..." The voice paused for a second. "Batta?" the voice asked.

Batta gasped. "Vague?!"

Vague hopped back. "My apologies. I am acting as lookout and guard, on milady's orders. I was sleeping under the blanket. My plan was to spring on anyone who tried to enter." She sounded like she was smiling. "And you fell for it, you dope."

Batta was focusing on something different, so he didn't react to the insult this time. He turned to face her and asked, "Lyn asked you to stand guard?"

Vague's hands twiddled a few inches apart from her cloak. "No," she admitted, "not exactly. She told me to keep you outside until you got new clothes." She glanced down at Batta's clothes. Her thin green eyebrows shot up in surprise.  
"I had no idea your clothes were so..." She tapped the side of her head with a dagger that hadn't been in her hand a second ago. "...so dirty before," she finished. She sounded like she was trying to find a way to mock him, and failing. "You seem to have quite a bit of skill at cleaning."

Batta gave her a childish smile. "Yeah. When you only have two shirts and three pants, you learn how uncomfortable dirty clothes are. Uh, what are you doing?"

Vague was leaning in close to Batta with her eyes closed, moving her nose over his clothes without really noticing Batta as a presence. She sniffed the sleeves on his shirt. "Hmm..."  
She put her nose into Batta's armpit all of a sudden, and sniffed again.

"H-h-h-a-ha-ha-ha! That tickles!" Batta giggled uncontrollably. Vague's nose was a small, round little nose, and that combined with the quick puffs of air coming in and out of the little thing made it really tickle.

Vague slipped back. "Hmm... fascinating." She stared at Batta with a look of sharp, cool interest. "You don't smell Sacaen," she noted.

Batta stared at her. "What are you_ talking_ about? I lived here my whole life!" A tiny voice in the corner of his mind whispered, '_no, you were taken here by mama, back before the wolf..._'

Vague shook her head, jerking him out of his thoughts. "I believe you." She looked up for a second. "Well, it's within the realm of possibility. It's just that you don't... smell... like a man from Sacae. You smell more like..." She trailed off. "No. You'll laugh." She turned away.

"Why would I laugh?"

Vague thought about it for a second, before she nodded.  
"Batta, you smell like an Altean."

Batta blinked. "Uh, cool. What's an Altean?"

Vague sighed painfully. "Ugh... of course, you wouldn't know..." She shook her head. "Just... let it go. It was meant as something good." She sighed again. All at once she looked old. And tired.

Batta stepped back. "Uh... are you okay?"

Vague flashed him a weary smile. Her eyes looked like burned-out coals sunk into her head. "Yeah, yeah. It's just... eh. When you get old, your mind starts to wander a little, you know?" She shook her head. "Ah, forget it. You're a young man, you won't have to deal with that kind of problem for quite a while. Just forget about it."  
A sinister smile nudged its way into her mouth. "You know, I'm supposed to keep you out until you get new clothes. From what I can tell, those rags? They're not new clothes." The smile grew wider, and added a few teeth. "Come with me. By the way... two shirts and three pairs of pants?"

Batta shook his head. "No, three pants. One leg per pant, you see. Now, I have a funny story about that. One day I was picking fruit high up in the mountains..."

* * *

A while later...

* * *

Lyn was inside their room, tossing and turning restlessly on the bed. For some reason it felt like something was missing. The bed was softer than her bed back on the plains, there weren't any lumps, and it wasn't dirty... well, it wasn't_ that_ dirty.

"Guh... nom..." she mumbled as she shifted around. Her Lorca split-skirt dress was getting taken care of by the inn's resident cleaning lady (who was actually a man in this case, to Lyn's wry grin), and her sword belt was stowed neatly in the drawer in the corner; she didn't have on anything besides a pair of lambskin underpants and some woven-together scraps of fox pelt that covered her chest and stomach. Her gloves were still curled up on the floor between the door and that little drawer, and they were probably going to stay there until they left the room for good.

What was going _on_? She felt naked (which was funny, since she went naked all the time back on the plains and it never bothered her). Maybe it was warmer in Bulgar...? No, that wasn't it. Whatever it was, she didn't feel right.  
She got up. Even the air felt wrong. Too damp, she guessed, like there was a Lycian bath house just underneath her room. Yes, that was it, the air was damp!

Just walking to the door, she could feel her underclothes clinging to her skin against the current in her wake. Disgusting. She pinched the pelt scraps, peeled them off, and laid them back on her chest again. The underpants followed soon after (although they went where _pants_ were supposed to go, not on her chest. Ugh, she felt stupid when she thought that; it felt like something Batta would say).

She was too uncomfortable to get to sleep, and she didn't feel like bothering the cleaner for her dress back. She had her practice sword with her, so going through her morning exercises wasn't out of the question... if she wanted to do them, which she didn't.

She got her sword out of the drawer anyway. It wasn't an elaborate blade; it didn't glimmer like dew in moonlight, or have an edge that could split an anvil in two. It didn't sing as it sliced through air. The scabbard wasn't decorated with an intricate illustration of some scene of legend, nor did it slip off like a pair of loose slippers.  
This sword was a sword that had seen its glory days - and they might well have been glorious; the blade was so dull it would be hard-pressed to cut bread. Burrs riddled its edge like someone had chopped at it with a straight-razor. The leather on the handle was so old it had turned brittle, and flaked off in dusty clumps. The handle itself was bare of jewels, and badly fitted from the last time it had to be replaced. It might get replaced again soon enough; it was splintery and easy to crack.

Lyn flopped heavily down on the bed, grasping her old sword in one hand. She pulled closer to it, then she hugged it to her breast. Her legs were loose at first, then curled up tight. Her hand trembled as she touched her cheek.

A lone tear slipped onto her searching finger. It was all the sorrow she had left.

After a moment, Lyn's short burst of sadness faded into nothing. It was too... relaxing for that. The smell of warm sheets mixed with traces of the market outside, and drifted up her nose like a kiss. Her hands loosened up around her dad's old sword. Her legs extended away from her body, curling out a little bit

Lyn closed her eyes with a tiny twist of her lips. Maybe it was a smile.

Some time passed. Her fears and her tension flew out of her as her thoughts faded away...

* * *

A light tap at the door crept into Lyn's ear. She opened her eyes lazily, and wearily slumped off the bed, touching down on the floor with a thump and a clatter. She dragged herself to the door and leaned against it. The practice sword angled awkwardly between her arm and the door.

"I swear, if this is isn't Batta or Vague, I'm going to kill something," she groaned.

She flung open the door and stepped back. A tall, muscular woman with indigo hair stood just outside her room, wielding a gigantic, ornate double-bladed axe.

Lyn's eyes went wide. For the second time in less than half an hour, adrenaline swelled in her veins and made the world slow. Her heart beat a fast, loud rhythm in her chest, but she barely felt it.

"Oh..." Lyn said that, and no more. Her hand flashed for her sword, jerked it quickly out... and it stuck.

Lyn looked down at her sword. "Shit! Not now! _Please_ not now!" Her grasp on the weapon became a grip, and the tight-fitting scabbard clattered in her hands as she pulled as hard as she could.

The woman in the doorway was holding her axe in a flat backhand hold, tilted slightly out from her arm. She'd been holding it that way since Lyn's hand went for her sword, and now she flipped the axe back to a forward grip. She brushed the hair from her eyes and blinked at Lyn curiously.  
"Uh, would you be Lyn, by any chance?"

Lyn's head shot up at the woman. The jittering stopped. Lyn's hand slumped off the handle, while her head drooped in exhaustion.  
"Yeah," she lilted. "Yeah, that's me. Just who... who are you? I'm way, way too tired for this..."

Kent poked his red head around the corner. "Lyn! Are you all right?!"

Lyn pointed her blade's sheath at him in a sudden flare of anger. "What do you WANT?!"

"I brought my partner like I told you! Thing is, he wouldn't come unless I brought along this girl-"

The woman interrupted. "No, you pile of donkey meat! I came here for Batta, not this swishy little bone-chewing, sword-twirling, shaky Sacaen bitch!"

Lyn put a hand on the side of her head and stared at her, shortly but very hard. "That axe is pretty sharp," she observed, the tone of her voice light and casual. "Don't cut yourself, girl. The floors don't need more filth on them."

Kent and Kay had a moment of synchronization; both of them had the exact same look of astonishment plastered across their faces like scarlet oil paint on splintering wood.

Sain sauntered around the corner, oblivious. He strode between Lyn and Kay, giving Lyn a close, curious look. His face tilted to one side, but he kept his eyes on hers. He gasped, "Oh, my heart! What a dazzling vision of loveliness! O beauteous one, would you not favor me with your name?"

As soon as the words came out of his mouth, the tension evaporated out of the whole group. Kent's palm slapped into his face with a loud _smack!_, and even Lyn let out a tiny giggle. Kay smirked knowingly.

"Yeah, I'm Lyn. Now, I have to ask, is that your regular pickup line, or is it my own little personal poem?"

The edge of a smile slipped into Sain's mouth. "Neither. I only use it on the very prettiest women," he confided smoothly.

Lyn shook her head. "You're slick. Hopeless, but slick." She looked around him, at Kent. "So the only men Lord Hausen could send out were a playboy and a public speaker? I'm starting to think something's wrong with him."

Kent and Sain exchanged a glance with each other.

Lyn shook her head. "Well, Kent, I'm afraid my offer is closed now. You and yours will have to buy their own room now." She nodded toward Kay, whose name had not been revealed to her. "That includes your partner's... companion, here."

Kay took offense at that. "I am no man's _any_thing, girl! I'm Kay Eiche, the Clawing Wolf of Bern! How dare you... HEY!"

Lyn was already walking back into her room, totally ignoring Kay and any threats she could have made. The door slammed shut in their faces.

Echoing up the corridor came a manly voice and a girlish chuckle. The manly voice declared, "...got one of them in my teeth, but the rest of the buzzards got the left side of my pants! So, what I did was..." He noticed the group in front of his room. "'Scuse me," he said as he nudged past them.

He paused as he looked back, eyes focused on Kay. His jaw dropped impossibly close to his chest in amazement.

"Kay? Is that you?!" His mouth flew wide open in a dazzling grin. He reached forward and caught a curl of her hair. "It _IS_ you! Murgleis and Eckesachs, this is amazing!" He hopped back, waving his arms in excitement. "HEY LYN! COME OUT AND MEET MY FRIEND HERE!"

For the third time that day, Lyn groaned as she got out of bed. She crossed the floor with a series of graceless shuffles and a weary groan. The door drifted open like a leaf floating on top of a river, revealing Lyn's glazed eyes and slow, clumsy steps.

"...aaaaaaaa- WHAT?!" she yelled. "What is it?! I'm too tired t' deal with this! Tomorrow!" She clumsily grabbed Batta and pulled him inside, slamming the door as she went.

Kent and his entourage stared at each other. Kay was about to say something when Batta's muffled voice rang through the door: "I'll introduce you two later!" There was a quick ripping sound. "OW! That's my new pair of pants!"

"Lyn, stop it! Those pants cost more than his life!"

Kent, Sain and Kay whirled to face this new person. A small, rust-skinned girl stood stood between all three of them, moving towards the door. A flap from her long, heavy cape whirled up and slapped Kay in the face when she tried to look. A huge, heavy bundle nestled in her arms as she crossed to the door.

Without so much as a knock, Vague barged inside, deftly snapping the door shut as she passed.

The loiterers outside the door had a good enough picture from the words alone.

Vague's voice came first. "Lyn, take off those pelts. I took the liberty of buying new clothes." A short pause followed. "Stop staring." She added an exclamation point in the form of a loud smack.

"Ow!" came Batta's eternal cry.

"You didn't have to hit him," Lyn admonished.

"Would you prefer psychological torment? It can be provided."

"No!" Lyn cried.

Silence.

"I was joking," Vague stated, in a voice that sounded like it had never said a joke in its life.

"Uh-"

"Quiet, please, Batta. I'm holding a discussion with your employer." Another smack.

"Ow!"

"What did I say?!" Lyn raged.

"You said his hits were not necessary. I have to admit, you're quite right. It's just so _fun_!" She sounded positively gleeful, on the edge of laughing.

"You know, I always thought you were a cold, spiteful, uncaring, emotionless bitch," Batta calmly informed her.

"Why, thank you!" Vague replied happily.

"But you're really... very emotional, aren't you?"

There came the sound of nodding, immediately followed by that of a smack.

"Ow!"

"Don't judge me, boy. You haven't earned the right." Her voice, cold and cutting, took on a smiling tone. "But good work, figuring that out. You've gotten observant. Keep it up, and work on your reflexes, and no one will ever take you by surprise." For once, she sounded truly proud.

Silence again. Then a huge yawn rolled out from under the door and up the sides of the hallway, engulfing every listening ear in a wave of sympathetic sleepiness.

"Ahh-haaaaah... I'm tired," Lyn finished. "Lie down."

"Um..."  
A short pause followed.

"I make no judgement," Vague said noncommittally.

A barrage of creaks and groans came from inside. Apparently, someone was getting onto the bed. A second wave of creaks followed.

Suddenly, a loud voice came from just beyond the door. "OY! Do you layabouts have nothing better to do than listen in at your lady's door?!"

Kent and Sain jumped.

Kay scowled as she led them away. "I'll get us a room."

Sain and Kent stared at each other, Kent shaking his head as vigorously as Sain was nodding.

"No," Kent breathed.  
"Yes," Sain grinned.  
"No!"  
"Yes!"  
"No, you're not doing what you did with Quill! I cannot and _will_ not allow another young girl to lose her life to your lust, not again!"

They stopped arguing. Kay was being too quiet.

"What is it?" they asked together.

She still didn't say anything. A green spark darted at the corner of her eye.

Sain sidled up to her with a devilish grin. "I was wondering if-"

"You two are sleeping on the floor!" Kay spat like a curse, slapping down Sain's suggestion before he could even bring it up. Her shallow cheeks were swollen and purple with fury.

"Thank you!" Kent prayed.  
"Damn!" Sain cursed, overlapping with Kent.

Kent turned to Sain. "Sain, behave yourself. This kind lady is _allowing_ us to share a room - on her own coin, no less - so keep your mouth to yourself, and your private parts in their proper place!"

Sain blushed. "Kent! Please! There is a lady present," he said, gesturing to Kay.

Kay snarled incoherently, slapping at Sain's outstretched hand with her own. Her shoulders hunched as she folded back. She flipped her wolf Beil to an intricate backhand grip; her first two fingers stretched along the handle and pointed toward the base of the axe, while the other fingers curled around it, apparently independent of the other two.

Sain's hand instinctively darted back, but he forced himself to freeze. "Is there... What's wrong?"

Kay's breath hissed out of her nose once, twice. Her hands shook with the sheer force of her grasp. Her eyes swelled in her head until they seemed like they were about to pop out of her skull.

She flipped the axe to a forward grip, before sheathing it on her back. Her eyes shrank back into her head, letting her eyelids close over them slowly.

**_"AAAAAAAH!"_**

Kay's fist shot out and smashed into the wall. "That son of a bitch Batta! He leaves my band and doesn't send any word - _for-five-mother-fucking-years!_ - and when I finally find the little shit-eater, he blows me off - ME! KAY EICHE! THE CLAWING WOLF OF BERN! - TO FUCK SOME SWORD-SWINGING FLOOZY!"

Kent stood there with a glare of pure fury on his face, desperately forcing himself to stay calm and not say what he was thinking. Even so, a few raging syllables slipped out.  
"Lady.. Lyn... is **not**... a floozy," he managed eventually.

Sain stood next to him, watching Kay very closely.  
"Why does it bother you?"

Kay glared at him. Sain did not flinch.

"Why does WHAT bother me?!" she growled.  
"Batta blowing you off," Sain replied calmly. "Why is that such a bad thing?"  
"What the hell are you talking about?! The man doesn't even let me say anything! He just - barges through like I'm not even there!"  
Sain sighed quietly. "Maybe there's something behind your anger than a simple bit of discourtesy," he suggested.

Kay froze. A moment passed. She blinked slowly, and her awful snarl melted slowly away. She sighed, letting out in a single breath what a hundred decibels couldn't. With all that tension gone, Kay couldn't keep her legs under her. She slumped to the floor, dragging down against the wall all the way.

Sain walked toward her, calmly. His lips curved up in a smile, while his body curved down in a crouch down to match Kay.  
He said nothing.

Kay looked at him. The low green of her eyes flickered weakly as she stared into the grooves and swells of his face.

"Do you want to talk?"

Kay shook her head. "No... no. Tomorrow."

Sain smiled gently. "Tomorrow," he agreed. He clapped his hands suddenly, making Kay flinch a little. "You promised a room," he scolded.

Kay coughed mildly. Or maybe it was a laugh. No one could tell. "Yeah, I did," she added.

Sain reached out a hand once again. "Here. Let's get a room. Shut up," he shot at Kent.

"You know we're supposed to be on guard? And helping?" Kent sighed. "Did it ever occur to you that your philandery is the reason you never get promoted?"

"Look, Kent, you're going to lose this argument," Sain said seriously. "Give up."

Kent rolled his eyes, but he said no more.

Kay grabbed Sain's hand, dug in her heels, and hauled herself to her feet. "Thanks," she wheezed.

Kent led them down the corridor, towards the front desk. Sain followed close behind, dragging Kay by her muscular hand behind him. Kay winced every time he stepped forward.

"Anytime," Sain promised.

* * *

Sleep. It was what Lyn and her odd assortment of bodyguards all shared, that and little else. Lyn was asleep atop Batta, Batta was highly uncomfortable, Vague was covered in blankets outside their door. Kent and Sain shared a surprisingly comfortable floor, while Kay hogged a surprisingly **_un_**comfortable bed.

It wasn't even midday yet, why were they all sleeping?


	4. Farewell to Bulgar

God damn it, or Elimine sanctify it, or whatever the term happens to be! I've put up three chapters already and I still haven't even gotten to the first chapter of Fire Emblem! I can't believe it! I have to get a move on, or I'm gonna be stuck on this till 2050 (the year, not the military way of telling time)!

FYI, there's gonna be some alternative character interpretation in this story. One of the big ones (though not the most obvious, I think) will be Sain and Kent. They're going to be a bit... different than they are in the game. And they're not the only ones, not by any stretch - when we get to _Dorcas._.. jeez.

Something kinda cool, though: I finally got a romance recommendation!  
Yubelchen says Hector should get romantic with Kay. Now that's what I call working with the OCs, man! Hell, I may actually use that! Great going, dude, I like the way you think!  
On a side note, Yubel doesn't seem to hold much love for a Lyn/Rath pairing - not like that changed my mind or anything... but just as a reminder, Lyn's partner is already chosen. I'm not changing who it is. Ever. Even if you convince me it would be a good idea to go full-on lesbian and throw her on top of Florina (which you wouldn't have to; I have imagined that scenario enough to be well-deservedly ashamed), I AM NOT GOING TO DO IT. Don't even ask.  
La-la-la-la, I can't hear you!

For those who don't know:_ tsuba_ is the term for the circular (or square-shaped) guard used in traditional Japanese swords. A _saya_ is a scabbard used in the same type of weapon. Lastly, _tsukamaki_ (or _tsuka-ito_) is the term for a professional handle wrap; if you've seen a katana with a ribbon around its scabbard, you've seen a _tsukamaki_. Usually, they're decorative, but in this version of the Fire Emblem universe they serve a practical purpose as a belt or lacing of some kind.  
See, I _am_ researching this!

Later on, Vague will mention something called Scar Lister. That's just the Fire Emblem version of aloe vera. And yes, I completely made that up.

P.S.: First chapter yet to top 10,000 words! WA-HOO!

* * *

On the third day...

* * *

Kay was the last to wake up.

She opened her eyes slowly, sleepily. A broad section of her vision appeared as nothing more than a blur in her eye; a big patch of red smeared into a glob of green. They squirmed a little.  
She put her wrist against her eye, filling her lungs with a deep, cleansing breath. Once she got control over her breathing, she pressed her raised wrist against the corner of her eye and rubbed.

She sat up lazily, automatically slipping on her goatskin armbands as she looked around again.

Two armored men stood against the door. One was clad in thick, bright green plate armor; he leaned against the door's frame, putting all of his weight on the cheap wood. The other was covered in vicious scarlet plate, standing firmly on his own feet and looking especially annoyed. Their quiet banter found a sort of illustration in a bunch of subtle gestures, all of them especially relaxed and gentle like they were trying to not startle an animal of some sort.

As she looked on, the one in green armor stopped talking and glanced over at her. His face lifted in a wide grin.  
"Oh, hey! You're up!"

Kay jumped up on her bed. "Who the hell-!" Memories from yesterday flooded back into her brain, and she sat down again. She raised one hand, sleepy now that she didn't feel threatened.  
"Oh. Hi, Sain," she replied.

Sain smiled and turned to Kent.

Kent's perpetual frown lightened to nearly nothing.  
"I'm happy you're happy," Sain tossed at him.

"We don't have time." Kent looked and sounded so serious he wouldn't accept an argument. "Lyn is waiting. Let's go." He turned to the door, and hesitated. He didn't hear anyone moving behind him.  
"NOW," he boomed.

They scrambled out of their room like runny eggs, heading for Lyn's room as quietly as possible. Kent got there first, followed in quick succession by Sain, and then Kay, who came out fumbling with her wolf Beil. She put it up against her back and clumsily sheathed it as Kent waved them quietly back.  
He knocked on Lyn's door. "Lady Lyn! It's morning! We need to go!" He paused. A few seconds passed. Some stall outside the inn echoed with another, separate shout; the words blurred as they flew past. Kay thought she heard a pigeon chirp somewhere.

Kent knocked on the door again. "Lyn! Can you hear me?!"

"Of course she can't hear you."

Kent jumped and whirled on the voice with a hand on his sword.  
Vague barely blinked. "She's just outside. Come with me, fool." She spun on her bare left heel, holding her right foot out straight to keep herself balanced. Her heel turned on the floor like it was as solid as a mound of cotton, letting her body swivel smoothly, easily even, on the rough floor. Once she was turned around far enough, she touched her foot down and started walking like nothing happened.

The other three, especially Kent, were struck by just how graceful this girl was. She didn't look like she was really conscious of it; it just looked so natural, so effortless.

Vague paused. Without turning, she called, "Are you coming, or may I leave you here?"

Kay fell in behind her with a smirk. Sain followed close behind, smirking as well. Kent took up the back of the line to keep an eye on his partner, who (if experience taught him anything about the pervert) would be reaching for Kay's bottom with a thumb and forefinger pinching all the way. On a sudden urge, he reached around and slapped ahead of Sain's hand.  
To his complete shock and amazement, he didn't hit anything.

They rounded a couple of corners in a strict sequence, each one in line following the last by half a second. Kay didn't really know where they were going, nor did the knights; Vague led them all, going on a topsy-turvy path through the inn's back rooms on her way to the front door. The girl's eyes stabbed straight forward all the time, until she turned. When that happened, her head swiveled around just the slightest bit before she did that twirling spin-stop.

After passing through half a dozen hallways, Kent was getting restless. He hadn't had any contact with Lady Lyn since yesterday, when she'd forced him out of her room and forced him to find another, and the thought of failing Lord Hausen was a prospect Kent did not want to consider. The way Kay moved under the weight of a wolf Beil put Kent on edge, even if she _was_ supposed to be a friend. And, to top it all off, Sain hadn't tried to pinch her even once, which was out-of-character enough to make Kent worry something was wrong with his partner.

"Gah," he muttered in irritation.

"Yes, Kent?" Vague's sharp voice dug into his thoughts.

"Huh?" Kent said, confused.

"You have something to say?"

Kent blinked. "No, ma'am."

"Don't call me ma'am."

Before Kent could think, he replied, "Yes, ma'am."

Vague stopped on the spot.  
"I mean it."  
Kay barreled into her, knocking her over.  
For once, Vague seemed actually surprised. She hesitated for half a moment before her arms snapped out to slam against the ground, pushing forcefully out and to the side. Without missing a beat, she whirled back to her feet just next to Kay, who was stumbling forward wildly.

"Wha... Whoa..." She began to fall, but got her feet back under her with a little bit of effort. She sensed a hand gripping a handful of her clothes, and pulling her back hard.  
"Uh, aaaAAAHH!" Kay fell backward with a scream.

Sain's hand unclenched from her clothes and snaked around Kay. He clasped his arms around her chest and held her tight, forcing her to stay upright.

For a minute, neither of them really knew what just happened. Sain's breath slid out of his throat, catching just slightly on his exhale. Kay stared forward, wide-eyed in confusion, her green irises flared fantastically bright in her head. Her hands twitched shut, once, then opened again.

The moment passed with a whisper. Kay shook herself and pushed slightly against Sain's arm. Sain let her go with what seemed to be a nervous smile. Kay scratched the side of her nose and smiled back.  
"Thanks for throwing off my balance," she mumbled.  
"You're welcome, miss Kay," Sain said without really listening to whatever it was she said.

Vague smiled and said nothing.

Kent did the exact opposite.

"Kay, I would stay away from that man. He's the most famous lech in all of Caelin!" Kent declared theatrically.

Kay shrugged, the very picture of arrogance. "I'll take my chances," she said haughtily, letting the tone of her voice sharpen her stance of self-assurance by its sheer presence.

Kent shrugged back at her. "Fine with me. Just don't say I didn't warn you," he added, before falling back in line with Vague. The others soon followed. Vague did that graceful twirl again and stalked towards the front of the inn.

Only a few moments later, they came out into a wide room. Off along one side was a small tavern-esqe bar; a thick paper-bound ledger rested weightily on one end, just next to a huge money changer. Not a single soul was tending to the books. It made the cramped room seem... gloomy.  
The inn's front door stood across the room from the ledger. Vague beelined for it.

Before they could get to the front door, a huge man lazily snaked his arm across it. The guy was big, wide and very tall, bigger even than Kay. His arms were weighty and thick, like they were carved from huge oak logs, and they led into two huge shoulders that could have been boulders, they were so rough. Those arms looked like they'd swung around their share of hammers or spears. He took a few careless steps forward, putting his bulky body squarely between the door and Vague's short line.  
He cleared his throat, causing a noise like a small avalanche in the tight section of room. A quick cough erupted from the depths of his lungs, and he cleared his throat again. He put one finger against the side of his nose and spewed a glob of encrusted snot onto the floor. He did the same to the other side of his nose almost ceremonially. With a ponderous, graceful patience, he wiped his hands on a nearby towel.  
"Hello," he rumbled.

Vague held up one flat hand. "Hello, sir," she started with a polite smile.

"I'm not a knight," the big man observed with a smile.

Vague gave a wide-eyed blink. "Oh, sorry! Are you the innkeeper?"

The man looked down at her with one raised eyebrow. A moment of quiet hung in the room, swelling and slowly weighing down. Kent slowly dropped his hand to the hilt of his sword.  
"That I am, girl," the big man eventually admitted, sounding slightly impressed.

Vague beamed up at him. "Oh, good! I was looking for you!" Her hand darted into her massive cloak and fished around for a short moment. Her hands came out a moment after, clutching a single gold coin. "This should pay off two rooms, right?"

The big man held out his hand. Vague dropped the coin into his palm.

He held it up to his eye and smiled. "Yeah, that should cover it," he boomed. He stepped away from the door and bowed. "Come back anytime," he added.

"I will!" Vague added a girly giggle to the end of the last word.

Because of her, the huge man's smile as he opened the door to Bulgar was huge and honest.

* * *

Lyn paced the outside of the inn, scoring a hit on a small jut of wood to one side of the door with each pass. The repetition of her strides and her continued strikes to the place were keeping her calm, but not very much. The breath in her hissed out of her nose in a combination of frustration and impatience every few steps, pairing off with every exasperated inhale she took in. Her wild, tangled green hair flowed back from her head on the trail of wind she left in her wake. Even though her split-skirt dress just got cleaned, the colors were more brilliant than they were before. Her father's sword was in its _saya_, suspended next to her hip by Lyn's _tsukamaki_.  
Lyn's _tsukamaki_ was a long, smooth strip of waxed leather that wrapped around her left shoulder and down around her right hip, cocooning her sword's _saya_ in eight connected loops and tying off just past its tip.

"Ah!" Lyn gave a short, soft yell. It gave a quick vent to her frustration, but did nothing to quell the rising rage in her belly.

A few steps back from her paces, Batta was sitting in the shade of a smallish tree and scratching at his scalp. He seemed entirely unaware of Lyn's mounting agitation, even laconic, as his finger picked a large flake of dandruff off his head.

"AH!" Lyn shouted again, smashing her fist into the spot again.

"Calm down," Batta said dreamily.

"Calm down yourself!" Lyn spat back, a little too fast. "How the hell am I supposed to keep calm when that bitch keeps me waiting like this?! Fuck! I just wanna... PUNCH SOMETHING!" She slammed her fist into the door, adding another exclamation point to her words.

Batta nodded sagely. He picked another flake of dandruff off his head. The callouses on his palms looked like flakes of gravel on his dirt-caked skin.

At that moment, Vague emerged from the very door Lyn just punched, slipping around the side of the door just before it could snap shut on her cloak. She leveled a quizzical look on Lyn.  
"I realize Batta is a fool, but no fool should make you _this_ agitated, milady," she noted.

"That's because it's not him! IT'S YOU!"

Vague pointed to herself with daintily raised eyebrows, as if to say, _'me? little innocent vague?'_

"Yeah, you!" Lyn blared. "You didn't let me sleep for two whole days, you bitch!"

A smile broke out across Vague's face at that. Without warning, Kay and her followers slipped through the door off the inn just in time to catch Vague giggling gleefully and clapping her hands together like a little pampered girl getting a new pet.

Lyn stopped yelling in mid-rant, confused, annoyed, and slightly scared.

Vague's clapping slowed down, and stopped. The smile on her face didn't diminish in the slightest.  
"Oh, this is better than I could have dreamed!" Vague chattered excitedly. "This is just perfect! Your basic energy level is already beginning to expand exponentially! I had no idea you had such a deep measure of potential! Milady, your ascent to ladyship does not forswear your ascent to power, nor does it forswear your continuing beauty."

She chattered on as Lyn glanced at Batta, asking silently if he knew what was going on.

Batta was completely focused on picking his nose at the time. He glanced up at Lyn, gave her a casual shrug, and immediately went back to picking his nose.

At the same time, Lyn went back to her dialogue with Vague. Vague was saying something about an 'infinite sword', gesturing energetically and letting her hands weave an image of a blade. From one side of the inn door, Kay shouted:  
"Thundering Eckesachs, woman, what are you talking about?! What the hell is an energy level?! What the hell is expeninshally, or whatever it was you said?! How the hell does it have anything to do with anything?! How is miss bent-blade here a lady?!"

Lyn flinched at the first few words she'd shouted. Despite her foul tone, Kay's rant_ did_ match what she wanted to ask.

Vague stopped in the middle of a word. She closed her eyes. Her face fell and became as neutral as the rest of her body. A line of whispers passed her lips. They were barely more than wisps, softly sharp shreds of noise.  
"...my apologies, Lyndis-_sama_. I have not the wisdom, nor the words, nor the wildness to speak of what I am trying to say..."

Vague stopped there. One of her hands came up, covering her eyes in a scarlet veil. Her eyes flickered rapidly underneath her hand, tracing a thousand circles and a stream of curves. No words came from her for a long time.

Lyn looked at Batta again. This time, his attention wasn't on his dandruff; he stared at Vague with a look of concern plastered across his face. He climbed up on one arm, slowly rocking back and forth until he got to his feet.

"Vague?" he asked quietly.

Vague's fist clenched over her eye so quickly one of her fingernails tore a fleck of skin off above her eyebrow. A sliver of blood welled up like a bloating corpse and slid down the side of her face. Her blood paused slightly, almost curiously, on the soft green hair of her eyebrow. It stopped moving for a second, before slicing down into her left eye.  
Still, her eyes flickered back and forth without a single pause. Still she made no sound. Her fist held its clench for a bare moment, before slowly loosening back to nothing.

Batta flashed a glance at Lyn, his eyebrows raised in alarm. "Lyn, what's going on?!"

"I don't know!" Lyn shot back.

Vague's eyes drifted open. "I'm... thinking..." she said slowly.

A moment passed while all the rest of them looked at each other. An aura of confusion hung around all of them. Kay glanced back and forth between Batta and Lyn, a low growl rising in her throat.

Batta looked up just in time to catch Kay glaring at him.

Batta took the cue. "Oh, Lyn! I forgot to mention my friend here." He wobbled over to Kay and affably placed a hand on her shoulder.

Kay snarled at him the same time as Lyn.  
Batta whimpered quietly, holding himself out of range of Kay's teeth as he did. He glanced back and forth at Lyn and then at Kay and back to Lyn again, a look of confused terror on his face.

"Uh-uh-uh, Kay, this is Lyn!" he shouted, choosing Kay as the target of his words. "I met her on the plains! We fought a little bit! She asked me to be her bodyguard afterward! We slept together!" Batta heard the words coming out of his mouth with the kind of horror usually reserved for irrational childhood phobias. On the inside, he was already preparing himself for his own murder.

"Good to he-..." Kay's mouth hung open, completely done with 'he' and ready to start on 'ar'. She blinked one time, slowly, letting her eyelids creep down her eyes and meet before creaking open like the door of a tomb.  
A rumble like smoldering embers growled out of Kay's throat. "You... _what_?"

Sain stiffened and pulled Kent around the corner with panic shining out of his face like a beacon.

"We slept in the same bed! She was on top of me. You were really uncomfortable, too." Batta risked Lyn's wrath in the hopes it would defuse Kay's.

It worked. "Oh. Okay then," Kay said dismissively. "You scared me for a second there." She choked on nothing. "Oh, gross! Now all I can think of is you naked!"

Lyn's eyes snapped shut in disgust. "You just HAD to say that, didn't you?!"

Sain peeked around the corner, realized nothing was wrong, and hauled Kent back in. As they came back, he said, "You coward! Why did you pull me along like that? I was ready to stand and fight for our lady, but you had to go and hide around the corner like a scared little girl! I was ready, Kent! I was ready!"

He was stridently ignored.

Lyn's expression could've killed a lesser creature when Batta finally caught it. The corners of her mouth clasped themselves together so tightly it looked like her teeth would shoot out of her mouth in a sudden explosion of rage and bad dentistry.

"What? It's true!" Batta whined. "You kept kicking me!"

Lyn marched over there and open-palm slapped him. She didn't say anything more, just stared at him in mild anger and more-than-mild resignation.

Kay's nod gave her a sense of silent approval, as if she'd said _'I'm completely fine with beating up this little idiot; in fact, I highly recommend it, as he is annoying, unhelpful, and completely frickin' stupid.' _Oddly enough, this was fairly close to what she actually meant.

Lyn smirked as she returned his nod.

"You're both meanies," Batta sulked. He was rewarded for his vocalization with a smack to the head, courtesy (kinda) of Kay.

"Yeah, we are," she admitted happily. She turned her attention suddenly away from Batta, focusing firmly on Lyn. "So. Who're you, miss bent-sword? And why the hell are you with my little friend here?!"

Lyn bristled at the way Kay spoke to her. Her voice was so rude! And she had no respect for the_ Lorca Batto-do_ blade! The form of a sword developed over centuries, the handle and the edge and the heft and the tang slowly evolved into an art of forge-craft, sculpted into an elegant work of art that weighed less than three pounds even in the most crude blade she'd ever seen wielded! And this woman... this ignorant, axe-hefting Bernese _bitch_... called the beautiful metalwork a bent sword. A _**bent sword**_... the utter hick had no respect for her tribe's history, or her weapon's elegance! Lyn would have to show her! ...yes... yes, Lyn would show her.  
On the outside, though, Lyn showed just one trace of that inner inferno. Her hand clenched around the hilt of her father's old sword, her knuckles bleaching white under the sheer strain of her tensing muscles.  
But she didn't say a word.

"By the way, that's a nice weapon. For a sword, anyway," Kay allowed, holding her hands up peacefully and hoping she could avoid pissing off the weapon's wielder. She'd noticed the white knuckles immediately. In fact, she'd caught them almost before Lyn tightened them; she had quickly and intelligently decided to change the subject.  
She was relieved to see Lyn's grip relax a little bit. It was just a little bit.  
But it was enough.

Kay smiled nervously. "I mean, I'm not much for swords most of the time. Me, I like axes. Not so much fussing around with technique and placement and all those schools of swordsmanship and... well, you get the idea," she said, saying the first things that came to mind. "But just 'cuz I'm not a huge fan of swords doesn't mean I can't appreciate a piece of art like a _Lorca Batto-do Ichigeki Hissatsugatana_! I mean, geez, those things are super-rare."

Lyn held her sword up like she'd never seen it before. "So that's what this one was called..." she said to herself.

Vague snapped her fingers.

Everybody jumped. They'd forgotten she was there.

She had a mournful cast to her face as she said, "I'm sorry it took so long to think of this, milady. I really am." At the end of that sentence, her expression melted. "What I was trying to say is... I'm amazed by your progress, even as short as your training has been. I'm..."  
A pause.  
"I'm proud of you."

Lyn could see her face as she said it. So could Kay. So could Kent, and Batta, and even Sain. Every single one of them could see her face. Even looking straight at her, they couldn't recall what kind of expression it was.

Vague said nothing more.

Lyn shifted her feet, more to resist the heavy silence than anything else. Her scabbard clicked against her leg once, then twice with the awkward shuffles.  
"Um..." Kay said it as Lyn said it. As one, they glanced at each other.

Lyn looked away and shook herself. "Is that all, Vague?"

Vague nodded. "Yes, milady," she informed Lyn. "That is all."

Lyn looked back at the knights. Then she looked at Batta and Kay, Batta's thick arm still wrapped around the lanky Bernese girl's shoulder at an awkward angle, his ugly calloused hand angling just under her shoulder bone. Kay looked irritated, but her slightly curled lip made it clear that she was faking.

Lyn's hand tensed on her sword.

Vague snapped her fingers again. Lyn glanced back at her.

"That reminds me," she started, "we need to pick something up. I meant to do this earlier, but what with beastie-boy's little temper tantrum..." Here Vague gave Batta a grim glare. Batta flinched and whimpered silently. "...I was a bit occupied. Incidentally, Lyn, it involves your work with the Taliver."

A kind of silence fell over the group then. It was the kind of silence that was forged to be shattered. It was the kind of silence that followed a tyrant king after he declared the execution of his queen, a woman who was beloved by every man, woman, and child of the populace. It was the kind of silence that came before the very first charge of a war. It was the kind of silence that hung over a village after all the population got massacred. It was the kind of silence that came after a thousand arrows loosed from a thousand bows, just before the high-pitched whistle as they sped down from the sky like raining death.

Kay slipped her right hand up her back and edged out the wolf Beil. It flipped into a backhanded grip, almost as if it did it of its own free will; the axe's silver edge glimmered with sharp ethereal light, singing off the blade's too-bright translucent metal with a resonance that seemed to scream danger and fury.  
She sniffed.  
"What."

Just that. What. No question mark, no exclamation point, no nothing.  
What.

Vague said the same thing, but added a question mark.  
"What?"

Kay's hands shifted slightly, moving into a matched symmetry of motion. They started moving, slowly but powerfully, from side to side. Her hands moved to the right, then seemed to bounce as they tracked back. The axe swung in her hand, weightless, a pendulum that whistled slightly as it chopped the air.

"I knew that sword-selling bitch was part of the Taliver," she said calmly. Her lucid, deep green eyes sat locked on Lyn. "I had a feeling. I could tell by that fucking sword. No one but Taliver have swords like that anymore. Not since the Lorca were slaughtered."  
The axe in her hand swung back, and forth, and back, and forth.

Meanwhile, Lyn leveled a thunderous glare on Kay. Her fist clenched over her sword in a death-grip; her hackles racked up in fury. She ducked a little and swept her left hand over her blade's grip. A quick jerk took it loose from the scabbard.

A purple-brown cloak drifted between them for a moment, then swirled away.

The wolf Beil still swung ponderously in Kay's hand, back and forth. The swings got wider, and wider, and wider until it seemed like her weapon could cut the world. Then, with a shrill _ss-st_, it was in her other hand.

Lyn's hand loosened from her blade in wonder. _When did that happen? _She kept her eyes on Kay's axe this time instead of her hands.

The purple-brown cloak appeared next to Kay's side.

Kay tossed the axe to her other hand, using its momentum to make the axe spin once. Her weapon sliced the air with a sharp _hiss_ before she cradled it to a stop.  
Lyn blinked, her interest overwhelming the low hum of anger in her head.

"Uncultured as she may be, she has a handle on her weapon," a cold voice intoned.

Kay flinched and froze. The wolf Beil whizzed past her hand and buried itself in the side of a stall.

Dismissing her lost weapon, she quickly pulled down her armbands and whirled on the voice, fists clenched and held up defensively in front of her face.

Without another word, Vague did something. It wasn't easy to define in words. It was like... like every muscle in her body grew and curled in on itself. Or better yet, she coiled, like a snake coiled, piling its body in on itself and tensing. Just before it shot at someone.  
And all of it happened in less than a fraction of a second.  
"I wouldn't go for it, girl," Vague chuckled. "It's not going to be easy."

Kay shivered. She _believed_ the little red girl.  
Her hands fell to her sides, and lay there quivering.

That feeling Vague gave off disappeared so fast she thought she'd imagined it for a minute. She walked fearlessly up to Kay and patted her awkwardly on her tall shoulder.  
"It seems you are the victim of a misunderstanding," she suggested. "Lyn is not part of the Taliver. I shall explain!" she interrupted before Kay could protest. "I said she had business with the Taliver, and that is true. Her business is-"

"I'M GONNA KILL THOSE MURDERING SONS OF BITCHES!" Lyn screamed, cutting off Vague's explanation and making the whole group jump. Her shriek pierced through the bustle of Bulgar's midmorning crowd, casting a veil of silence over the town. Every eye in the marketplace drew toward them like flakes of iron toward a magnet. Lyn glared firmly around at them, challenging each and every one who met her eyes.

The warm bustle of the town didn't feel so warm anymore.

"Exactly," Vague continued, without even the slightest change in tone. "We should get going. I don't like the gaze of a crowd on me." She held up one hand, flicking a finger toward a corner of the market. She did that smooth turn-step again, and walked off without looking back. "Get your axe," she said, flicking a finger at Kay.

Kay reclaimed the wolf Beil and hastily filed in behind her. Kent and Sain made a wedge between her and Batta, who followed after and was followed by Lyn. The band held up its silence for a quite a while.

They were approaching a blacksmith's when Kent finally spoke up. He sounded incredulous. "Gracious, Vague, whatever armed forces you come from must be disciplined beyond _belief_."

Vague hopped and landed, absorbing her weight with one hip and swiveling on her heel again. Inside half a second, she was walking backwards and looking questioningly at Kent.

"Armed forces?" Kay asked.

"Yes, she told me she was in the army." Kent seemed confused. Well, he was, but that didn't change matters.

"Army... Ar-" Vague froze in midstep. Kay almost knocked into her again. "Oh, yes, I did say that, now didn't I...?" A ghostly smile crossed her face. "Ha-ha. That's pretty funny. Army..."  
She paused, then doubled over. Laughter bellowed out at the top of her lungs for long seconds. After a bare moment she stood straight again, no trace of humor on her face.  
"My apologies. I forgot about what I told you."

Kent looked puzzled. "How... how do you forget your own past?!"

Vague shrugged. "It isn't a matter of forgetting my past, it's a matter of forgetting a lie." A horrible grin slashed across her face like a hot razor through canvas. "You see, Kent, I lied to you."

Kent's mouth dropped, baffled. "What? Why would you do something like that?!"

The air around Vague turned suddenly cold.

Vague's feet danced in place for just a moment, right before she darted forward. Before Kent could even blink, Vague was right in front of him, staring up at him with that terrifying grimace. Kay stepped back at once, placing a firm hand on her axe.  
"Why, it's quite simple," Vague replied, her voice disturbingly serene. "You're not worthy of learning the truth, boy. You are slow. You are weak. You are predictable. You are unacceptably undisciplined for a trained knight, and you have an unacceptably bad awareness of your own weapon, as demonstrated during our first meeting. And to top it all off-"  
Vague shot at Kent.  
Something slammed against the inside of his right knee at the same time as something pushed against the crook of his left arm.

All of a sudden, Kent slammed to the floor. The impact locked his breath inside his chest. Another weight slammed into his chest, pounding all the air out of his lungs at once. All he could get out was a grunt: "Unh-..."

Vague crouched on his chest, crimson eyes flashing and smiling devilishly at the defeated knight. "-you are completely vulnerable to surprise attack, as I just demonstrated. Why should I make a cur like _you_ privy to the details of my life?" A dagger appeared in her hand.  
Kent's eyes went wide.

Vague's hand flashed toward Kent's face.

"STOP IT!" Sain screamed in panic.

The knife drove relentlessly down, and punched in with a horrible thump.

Quiet. No one said a word; the scene before them just stole the words from their mouths.

Vague rolled off Kent's armor. "It was just a joke," she muttered as she walked off again.

Kent shivered, then slowly turned to catch sight of the knife. It stood about a foot away from his left ear, quivering gently in the packed dirt of the road. There wasn't a scratch on his body, no more than bruises from Vague tossing him to the floor.

Kent wheezed in a huge gasp. "_Huuuuuaah-!_ AAAAAAGH! YOU HAVE DEEP-SEATED PROBLEMS, WOMAN!" he shouted. Sain chuckled as he leaned down to give Kent a hand up. Kay snickered as she supported Kent's back while he got up.

"Say what you want about her, at least she's bringing us together," Batta observed with a grin.

Lyn looked at him with a curious mix of anger and wonder. "You're right." She pronounced the words skeptically, softly, as though they would cut her if she felt them too firmly. She didn't really believe she was saying what she was saying... _Batta saying something... and he was right?! Impossible!_

"Are you coming or not?!" Vague called, sounding angry at the delay.  
"We're coming!" they all called, before quickly dashing after her.

There wasn't any more talking in line.

* * *

"Oh, no! You paid for four sets of armor! You didn't say anything about five warriors!"

"Just hurry up and get me my money's worth, boy."

Laramie rolled his calloused eyes. "Fine. But don't blame me if they don't fit right!"

Vague nodded. "If it comes down to it, I can fit the armor myself later. It's acceptable."

Lyn, Kay, Batta, Kent and Sain reclined against the wall of Laramie's blacksmith, most of them making a clear effort not to get their clothes dirty. Batta was actually holding the legs of his pants up by their ragged hems, to keep them clear of ash and coal dust.

Kay looked at them in disdain as her leggings collect a layer of black soot. "Prissy little girls," she muttered under her breath.

Lyn caught it, though. "What's that supposed to mean?!" she demanded. She was overdoing it a bit on the anger, though; fake fury wasn't her specialty.

Kay smirked. "It means you guys care too much about dirt. It's like my old teacher always told me: 'a man who hates dirt is gonna get hurt!'"

"I'm not a man!" Lyn declared. "And who says we're not gonna hurt _you?!_ I know _Lorca Batto-do_, and I have the sword to prove it!" She drew her old sword as an exclamation point to the sentence. "Wanna try me, you hick?!"

"Calm down or I'll have to separate you two," Vague casually tossed back. If you went by her tone, 'separation' was something that involved a bed of needles, a guillotine, and a pair of tongs that were _waaaaaay _too big. "Is that what you want, to be separated?"

"Just get me away from the smell, I beg you!" Sain called over the crowd.

Vague allowed herself to smile a bit as she went back to inspecting the weapons. "I must say, you did better than I thought. These weapons are pretty high-quality for this neck of the woods."

Laramie smirked silently.

"I admit, I was not expecting a frontier town blacksmith like yours to have an armorslayer in stock." She picked up a gauntlet of silver chain mail. "No offense intended," she added casually.

Laramie nodded.

"That hammer was a nice touch, too. I must admit, you have an amazing gift for the craft, Laramie." She picked up the hammer with a slight grunt. "The (unh) balance is amazingly precise for a weapon this heavy. And the workings on the metal! You streamlined the head and tapered it to a spiked point, which is unexpectedly resourceful craftsmanship for a Sacaen metalworker - no offense - and greatly reduces drag on the hammerhead, which will exponentially increase speed of successive swings taken with the weapon, not to mention greatly reduce effort required to- "

"Vague! VAGUE!" Lyn yelled.

Vague blinked. "Yes, milady. I merely wish to compliment Laramie for his exquisite work on these weapons. They're really quite well-crafted."

Laramie leaned around Vague to look at Kent. "Was that really what she said?"

Kent nodded. "From what I could make out, yes," he admitted.

Laramie filled his face with a bearlike smirk. "Then thanks, girl! I mean it!"

"As did I." Vague gave him a courteous bow, taking up a weapon in each hand. She tossed the sheathed armorslayer back to Lyn, while she hefted the hammer in her left hand, feeling its weight experimentally. Her eyes seemed to lock on the tapered spike on the back of the hammer's head, and did not move away from it.

"Good-bye, Laramie. And remember, that axe was extraordinarily difficult to obtain. There aren't many pieces like it, and that one in particular belonged to... someone... special. Take good care of that weapon, and... please, keep it away from your forge."

Laramie snorted. "Yeah. And I'll try to remember not to feed my son poison while I'm at it, okay?"

Vague shook her head. "I hate sarcasm..."

* * *

Kent headed up the line going out of town. Sain followed behind him, sticking firmly next to Kay and hitting on her relentlessly. Lyn and Batta took up the back of the line, each of them jockeying to get ahead of the other. Batta (being bulkier) could shove her aside easily enough, but Lyn (being quicker and more graceful) could regain her footing easily.

Vague didn't really have a place in the group. She just walked along the edges, darting in occasionally for some reason or other, but she never stayed for long.

The town swallowed them up in noise, noise from every angle and around every corner, all the voices blending into a nondescript murmur. Kent made a game out of trying to trace a single voice in the crowd, and gave up after a few tries.

Vague noticed the glazed look his eyes attained. She didn't know why, but she could see the effects well enough.

She picked up her pace a little, and stopped darting around so much. She actually walked (or rather stalked) up behind Kent, moving along at an odd angle. Her steps were silent, but it wouldn't have mattered; the noise eclipsed every effort at conversation Sain attempted - and he attempted pretty loud.

"HAVE YOU HEARD THE JOKE ABOUT A PEACOCK?!" he yelled.

"HOW WOULD YOU USE A PLOW ON A DOCK?!" Lyn yelled back, quite confused.

"WHAT?!"

Vague abandoned Kent's trail to smack Sain.

"Ow!" Sain said in his normal voice. "That hurt!"

Vague went back to stalking Kent. Now that Sain's attention was on her, it wouldn't come off; there was too much to look at. He couldn't see anything odd about her slow, languid steps; they were captivating, though, in the way she never seemed to touch the grass. Her feet just slipped through gaps between each leaf. The cloak hanging down her back was strange, too. It had an odd color - the description_ purple-brown_ came to mind, but that wasn't exactly it - and it drank in light like it was thirsty.

"I should really write that down," he said absently.

Next to him, Kay yelled, "WHAT?!"

Sain looked at her.

"I SAID, WHAT?!" she repeated.

"NOTHING! IT'S NOTHING!" Sain replied.

Kay nodded silently. Sain tapped her shoulder. She looked back.

"DO YOU HAVE A PIECE OF PAPER?!" he shouted.

Kay shook her head.

Sain cursed silently. Kay hit him.  
"I AM NOT!" she yelled.

Sain nodded. "Sorry," he mouthed.

The troupe angled around a corner. The noise of the marketplace sheared away behind them, replaced by low sizzling. A group of food vendors perked up the moment they heard feet going through the gravel road, and instantly they clamored toward Batta and Kay, scrambling over the counters of their stalls with sample trays clenched in every calloused, bruised, burned, or just plain dirty fist.

The food cart people swarmed over the group, all screaming something different:

"Meat pies! Meat pies! Mince, salmon, beef, shaved pork! If it lived once, it's in my pies!"  
"Spinach and cheese with spices! Looks like crap, tastes like crab!"  
"White mushrooms in boar-blood sauce! Same crap the Bernese royal family eat! Sophisticated as hell!"  
"FRIED BEETLES!"  
"Genuine Ilian melting candy! I don't need to say any more, do I?! Melting candy, it's from Ilia!"

Lyn's troupe emerged from the swarm after a mere moment. Two men and a woman filled in the gaps behind them immediately, forming an impenetrable wall of flesh and dirty trays.

Lyn stopped after a moment. "Where's Batta?" she asked Kent.

Kent blinked. "Er... I was more concerned about Vague, actually. Where's she?"

Vague suddenly materialized through the legs of the three food-sellers on the end, her left arm curled tightly under her breasts. "Right here, milady," she called mildly.  
"Well, where's Batta?" Lyn repeated.

Vague poked a thumb back at the food-sellers. "He's purchasing Ilian melting candy, I believe."

Lyn's eyes went wide. "Really? How did he find any in Sacae...?"

Vague looked mournful. "I am not sure. I lost track of him in between the soft pork-atop-rice and the Thagastean cheese balls." Without warning, she smiled brilliantly. "On the other hand, I did make out with some very tasty spare rations!" She held out her left arm, revealing a tightly wrapped bundle that billowed out succulent steam. It reeked of perfectly cooked meat and seasoned rice and too many mouthwatering things to detect in one sniff.

Lyn was not amused.  
"Go back and find Batta!" she ordered.

Vague's smile shattered, and reformed into an expression that mixed the worst parts of 'startled' and 'offended'. Without another word, Vague nodded, laid down the bundle, and melted into the crowd again. A string of curses stitched its way through the vendors; shouts ranged from "Hey! Stop poking my knee!" to "OH ELIMINE MY ARMS! WHY DID YOU BREAK BOTH OF MY ARMS?! I HAVE TO SUPPORT MY FAMILY WITH THIS FOOD CART! MY SISTER IS ONLY FOUR YEARS OLD AND MY MOTHER IS TOO WEAK TO WORK! OH MY SAINTS THE PAIN IS SO HORRIBLE! AAAAAAGH!" and everywhere in between.

Even as she went into the swarm of meat vendors and vegetable shapers, Batta emerged, clutching a small, bulb-shaped clay pot in his hands. His hands molded around the pot in a death-grip, while his arms shot out straight as arrows. His teeth ground audibly against each other as he grimly held out the pot to Kent.  
**_"TAKE IT TAKE IT TAKE IT!"_** he said so fast the words blurred together.

Kent stood stunned for a moment. Sain took up his slack and grabbed the pot. He flinched as the clay burned into his hands, even through his sturdy knight's gloves.  
"Ow!" he said automatically.

Batta's hands were still gripping the pot.

Sain grabbed the pot once again, ready for its heat this time. His hands cupped under the curved dome on its bottom, shouldering its weight and its heat easily.

Batta released the pot and instantly slumped to the ground.

Lyn was at his side as he fell, and caught him under his shoulders. She wasn't really thinking about what she was doing, exactly; she just knew it needed to be done. Part of her was aware that Batta smelled... clean.  
Lyn smiled.  
She crushed that down fast, though; in a moment, she looked pissed.

Kay grabbed Batta by his vest and hauled him forward. Her teeth snapped closed only a couple of inches away from Batta's nose. Her green eyes flashed dangerously into his coal-black irises.  
"What the hell are you DOING, you moron?!" she growled. "I turn my back on you for one minute - ONE MINUTE! - and you're already off doing something stupid! Father Sky, you have any clue how _dumb..._"

She cut off when another smell invaded her nostrils, a hot, gritty, disgusting stench that cut down her throat as she breathed it in. Her hands flew up to cover her nose; her throat tightened and quivered as she gagged.

"Ugkh, kah! Ugh!" she coughed. "What's that horrible smell?!"

Batta held up his hand. Oily, heavy smoke trailed off of them in shiny black tendrils. "Do I really look dumb...?" he asked weakly.

Lyn looked at the smoke in horror. "Murgleis... and windstorms... WHAT DID YOU DO, YOU FOOL!"

At the sound of her voice, the crowd of vendors tensed for an instant, before scrambling frantically to either side. Their honed instincts were the only things that saved them.

Vague thundered through the stragglers, cutting a straight line toward Lyn and Batta. Her eyes came alive and twisted furiously as she stormed through them all. One man who sold dandelion beer couldn't get out of the way quickly enough; he was flung aside and landed on a pair of broken arms.  
"OH SAINTS! I THOUGHT I WASN'T SUPPOSED TO FEEL ANYTHING IF I'M HURT THIS BAD! MY ARMS WERE ALREADY BROKEN BEFORE! ARE THE OLD GODS LAUGHING AT MY PAIN?! WHOEVER SAID THE SAINTS WORK IN MYSTERIOUS WAYS WAS A CRUEL JERK! WHOEVER TOLD ME THAT IS A STUPID LIAR! THIS HURTS REALLY, REALLY BAD!" the unfortunate food seller yelled.

Vague ignored the noise as she flowed toward Batta. Her cloak billowed out behind her like a cloud of crystalline dust. The moment she stood still, it fluttered down and wrapped around her like a pair of butterfly wings.

"His hands are burnt," she said quickly. "Deep searing, a lot of blistering, blackened and charred skin. This is a deep burn. Hard to heal unless we get it immediately."

"It doesn't hurt," Batta added helpfully.

"Loss of feeling. That's a very bad sign," Vague shot back too quickly. She glanced at Lyn. "I need a vulnerary."

Lyn didn't move for a moment. Then, her hands dove into a pouch at her waist and came out with a waterskin. She popped off the cap and poured a little into her hand; what came out was thick and gummy and greenish-blue.

"Here!" she called.

Vague snatched it out of her hand. A knife flicked in her hand, sliced into the bag, out again, and out of sight in one fluid, precise motion. In a blur, she dipped the bag low over Batta's smoldering hands, turned it inside out, and poured the contents out.

As soon as it touched Batta's hands, the liquid vulnerary stripped the burnt skin off incredibly fast. The vulnerary clouded up, shrouding his huge hands under thick, smelly, muddy black liquid.  
Batta's teeth scraped together, but he didn't make so much as a peep.

Lyn turned to Vague. "Now what?" she demanded.

"We wait."

"How long?"

"Not long. When the vulnerary turns thin and flows like water, we'll see how deep the damage goes. If it's not too deep, we continue his healing."

Tiny drops of black liquid dripped from Batta's hand and splattered onto the dirt, glistening like oil in the shadows. Vague stalked away wordlessly, her cloak trailing behind her like a rainbow.  
Kent and Sain stood off to one side, looking mildly concerned for the welfare of their lady's companion. Kay sat right behind Batta. One of her hands rested on his shoulder, rubbing absentmindedly. Lyn sat on her haunches to Batta's side. From the look on her face, she seemed confused and angry, with just a hint of concern for the burly man's health.

She slapped him.  
**_"What the hell did you do that for, you stupid idiot!? What possessed you to grab a burning pot off of a vendor's stall and haul it back here!? Did you think it wasn't going to burn you?! If you felt like showing off, you could've found a better way to do it, you idiot! Why are you so stupid?!"_**

Batta's hands twitched, setting off a pained wince in his face. When it faded, he set into a shamed look. He rubbed his bicep sheepishly, flinched with pain, and stopped again. His tongue danced at the edge of his mouth as he slowly worked up his courage.

"It... I mean... You said..." He paused to rub his elbow, but stopped from hurting himself even worse at the last moment. "I thought you wanted... uh..."

A panicked light came into his eyes. "I mean, you said you _liked_ melting candy!" he shouted defensively.

Lyn tumbled back in fright. Unbeknownst to either of them, Vague hovered behind Lyn with a knife in each hand.

"You told me you liked it! I just thought you were still mad at me from that time when I tried to hurt you, and I wanted to make you not mad at me anymore! I'm sorry!"  
All the strength in Batta's voice flew away, leaving behind empty sorrow in its place. A pair of tears slipped from his eyes. "I'm sorry. Just don't... don't _yell at me anymore..._"

Lyn looked at Kay for help. After all, she knew him better - they'd recognized each other - and besides, what else could she do now? But Kay was looking at her the same way, helpless and confused.

Lyn took a deep breath, and placed her hand on Batta's shoulder. Her memory jumped back to when she'd had to nurse Florina back to health after they'd met. Florina had been so distraught she barely ate for three days, and Lyn had to coax her to pick up her spoon for a bowl of stew.  
Lyn smiled. If someone had told her a week ago that touching the shoulder of a dirt-caked, sloppy, inept brigand would make her think of Florina, she would've laughed in their face and called them a liar.

Enough reminiscing, she thought. She breathed deeply.  
"Batta, you'll be okay," she murmured in a calming voice. "It's going to be all right. Everything's going to be all right. Don't cry, okay? Everything's going to be all right..."

Batta sniffled, wiped his eyes with his elbow and looked up to Lyn.

He leaped into a giant hug, crushing Lyn against his chest. "Oh, Lyn! I love you!"

"Ghhhk, gggghk!" Lyn choked.  
"What?"  
"Ghht uhhf meee!"  
Batta let go. Lyn fell out of his arms, gasping wildly.  
"What?" Batta asked in concern.  
"(cough cough hack)... I said, get off me!" Lyn rasped.

Batta blinked. "Oh. Sorry," he added a few seconds later.

A minute slipped by.

"You have a little black stuff on your back," Batta noticed, coming closer as if to wipe it off.

"NO!" Kent shouted, just before he stepped between them. "I can get it." He took off his left glove and wiped the stain with it.

"You dropped your glove," Batta said, already bent to pick it up.

"I'LL GET IT!" Kent exclaimed quickly. "I mean, it's my glove, and I don't want to be any bother to you, and we have to get going or Vague is likely to try and kill one of us!"

"Just _one?_" Vague asked with a dark chuckle.

"Well, I'll just get Sain's foo-"  
"NO!" Sain shouted.

"What's wrong with you guys?!" Batta complained. "I just wanna help!"

Lyn pointed to his hands. Batta looked down and froze.

The vulnerary was coming down faster, and faster, pouring off of him like a river of black slime and soaking into the dirt, until at last the liquid sloughed off his hands completely.

Batta's hands looked far paler than usual. The layers of dirt that always seemed to coat his hands were all gone, revealing smooth skin that was the same creamy white as fresh paper. The callouses on his fingertips and on the webs between his fingers were still there, but they looked like little pearls instead of gravel. He flexed his hands numbly.

Vague appeared over his shoulder, staring at his hands. Lyn had the presence of mind to look at her eyes, but she saw nothing; Vague's braids blocked off Lyn's view from every angle she thought to look from.

"Good," Vague said. "The damage is fundamentally reversible. Very good. Now for the next level of treatment." Vague's hands dove into her cloak and came back an instant later, carrying a full white water-pouch. The liquid inside flowed in a way that water didn't, squelching instead of sloshing. Its contents were held inside by a small, faded-looking cork, which Vague flicked off and recaptured almost immediately. In a single, practiced motion, Vague upended the skin and smeared some thick clear liquid all over Batta's hand.

"That is Scar Lister paste. It will rebuild the flesh that was burned so thoroughly it can't feel anymore." She laid a hand on Batta's shoulder. "Make no mistake. It will hurt very badly." She slapped his shoulder again. "But the pain will pass, and your hands will be more powerful and responsive than ever."

Batta nodded at her. "Thank you, miss Vague!" he said respectfully. "I always wanted to play the lute!"

Then, his eyes froze on Vague. He whimpered pitifully. He backed away from himself, as the look on his face turned into one of revulsion and horror. He stared at his hands for almost ten full seconds as the expression grew more and more horrified, absorbing his coal-black eyes in a look that transcended rational levels of fear.  
His mouth parted. He sucked in a huge, gulping breath, as if preparing for a primal, terrified scream.

"_**EEEEEEWWWWW!**_ GOO!"

Batta ran for a washbasin.

* * *

After Batta's hands were cleaned (and subsequently re-smeared with Scar Lister, whereupon Kay, Sain and Kent pinned him to the ground until Vague said it was all right for him to wash off again), Vague was getting quite frustrated.

"We move out-of-town by the end of the day. Any other outcome will result in murderous murder, committed by myself if not by Lyn. The murder weapon will be the victim's own spine. Any questions?"

Batta raised his hand and began waving it back and forth.

"What is it, Batta."

Batta giggled. "What's a spine?" he asked.

Vague sighed.  
"Well, Batta," Vague began slowly, "a spine is a stack of bones in your body that goes from your neck to your rump. It grants you locomotion, dexterity, and innumerable other useful processes. In a pinch, _your_ spine also makes a handy makeshift sword." She shot a glance at Batta. "Any questions?"

Batta raised his hand again.

"In response to what I believe Batta is asking, locomotion is walking, running, jumping... any kind of movement that involves one's legs. Any _other_ questions?"

Batta's hand wiggled.

"Batta."

Batta's voice was tiny and horrified as he said, "Bones?"

"Yes, Batta. Bones. Spines are made of bones."

_"In my body?"_

One of Vague's hands, almost as if by its own will, brushed through the woven braids of her river-green hair and began gleefully strangling the thickest of them with one of its sister braids.  
"Yes, Batta," Vague said evenly. "They are bones in your body." She glared firmly at Batta. "Any other questions?"

Batta tentatively raised his hand.

Vague sighed. "Yes... again... Batta."

"Do we have anything to eat?"

"Yes, Batta. We do. Ask Lyn. Any other questions?"

Batta waved his hands again.

Vague stared at him. Her eyes held the sum total of all the malice and violence that her world had ever known; her irises flickered on the edge of madness, melting into red and into green, swirling cyan and ending on a shade of deep, deathly black.  
"What is it this time?" she asked calmly.

"Are you an Alte-"

"Finish that word and I finish your life," Vague interrupted. "Any other questions?"

Batta raised his hand again.

Vague whispered something under her breath.  
Faster than their eyes could follow, Vague rushed up to Batta and poked him several times. In just over half of one second, she was standing right where she'd been a moment ago, sweating very, _very_ slightly.

Batta's arm flopped limply to his side.

She breathed deeply, just once, and said, "Any other questions?"

Batta tried to raise his hand, but couldn't.

"No? Good. Move out," she called to the rest of them. She did that same spin-stop Sain had seen back at the inn.

Lyn closed distance with her in a few seconds. Sain, Kay, Batta, and Kent followed, in that order.  
Lyn kept pace with Vague, oddly enough. After a second, Vague slowed down a bit, allowing Lyn to pass her.

Lyn swiveled around. Vague faced her now, and was moving toward her; the distance between them did not diminish in the least. If anything, the distance was growing greater.

"Vague."  
Vague didn't respond.  
"Vague!"  
"Yes?"  
"What the hell was that?"  
"Whatever do you mean, milady?"  
"That attack! How did you _do_ that?!"  
"I just poked him a few times... in the right place."  
"How?! How did you get him so fast?!"

A slight, smug smile creased Vague's mouth.  
"I _might_ tell you," she said condescendingly. "If I feel like taunting you."

Lyn's hand tensed.  
"That's not funny," she said.

Vague winced and slammed her eyes shut. For a long while, she did not speak. The wind picked up, forcing her cloak to close protectively around her body like a cocoon. Her shut eyes quivered and swelled softly, like they were about to start leaking tears, and seemed to be tracking the ground.

When her eyes opened again, she made a sharp point of averting them from Lyn. Her gaze gradually seemed to focus on Sain, who was a fair way away but still closer than any of the others.  
"...My apologies. It's personal, milady. Ask me later."  
"You pulled it off on Batta. That doesn't seem too personal to me!" Lyn pointed out.  
"Batta is _singularly_ irritating, milady."  
"He's a complete idiot!" Lyn corrected. "And what was he going on about with that babble about Ilian melting candy?!"  
Vague blinked. "Ilian melting candy was the contents of the pot Batta brought back."  
Lyn gasped. "Oh... oh, that's what he was talking about..."

Lyn fell quiet for a moment. Air swirled around her head, forcing her hair into loose drifts that spiraled down her neck and over her shoulders. Those tendrils shimmered softly in the midday light like sunlight off an ocean, flowing calmly through long, lazy waves that traveled down from her shoulder.

She blinked all of a sudden. "Wait, what am I sorry for?! He's still an idiot! He grabbed a burning pot off a food-seller's stand for the dumbest reason in the world!"  
Vague shook her head. "I prefer to think of this as a positive, milady."  
"How can an absolute _moron_ be a positive?!"

"Think about it like this, milady: he is skil... han... trai... profi... able to use a weapon and entirely immune to psychological warfare. He is a zealot with a single, unambiguous mission, a mild handle for axes, and an amazing ability to keep you safe. He is utterly dedicated to you, milady, and he's just proven that no matter how inane,_ he is willing to perform any task you desire of him._"

Lyn slowed in her steps. Her eyes became quiet, like her thoughts had suddenly turned inward. Unconsciously, her hand reached for her sword's hilt, toying with the handle, circling her finger around the pommel slowly.

Vague turned around and smirked at Batta. Batta looked up from his conversation with Sain and waved at her, smiling like a boy who ate too much sugar, then went back to Sain and started talking energetically.

Vague turned back to Lyn. "In short, milady, we have the perfect meat shield."

Lyn flinched. "What?"

Vague flinched as well. She passed a hand over her eyes. "I apologize for the metaphor, milady. Please, forgive me."

Lyn shook her head. "It's okay," she said absently. She didn't say anything else.

Lyn and Vague walked in silence for awhile. Sain and Batta laughed behind her; she caught Batta saying, "...no pants on!", but that was all. Kent hid his grin behind one hand and maintained an embarrassed silence. His partner and Kay, however, were laughing uproariously.

Wind of the open plains slid along her skin as they reached the edge of town. Lyn let out a cramped smile that faded after a brief moment.

"I feel a bit strange," Lyn said, looking straight ahead. "It's just... what the hell was Batta doing?" She paused and shook her head. "And what was that babble about Ilian melting candy? He was right - I mean, I did say I liked it - but what does that have to do with anything? Agh... maybe I'm overthinking this." She paused again. "What do you think he was doing?" That last part was directed at Vague.  
There was no response.  
"Vague?" Lyn looked to her right.  
There was a hole in the air where Vague should have been.

On instinct, Lyn glance back at the rest of the group. Vague was standing next to Kent, listening to whatever it was he was saying.

Lyn felt outraged for a moment... but then again, why should she? It wasn't like Vague had to wait on her hand and foot. Still. It was really odd to see her going off on her own initiative. On the way to Bulgar, she hadn't so much as said a word without Batta or herself prompting her to. Vague spent most of the journey alternately urging them on with sharp strikes, commenting on their posture in short fragments like "lower your hips", or "knees higher up" accompanied by painful whacks, and hitting them to keep them from falling over.  
Huh. Actually, it seemed like the only thing she _did_ was hit them.

Thinking back on that, Lyn felt a wicked urge to hit her back. With that thought growing in her mind, a smile grew across her face. She tossed her old sword to her left hand and locked the scabbard. She took her time lacing her sword back to her hip; she made sure to tie it loosely, letting the weapon slip through the loop a tiny bit with every step.  
Without a word, she slipped back into the group. A few clumps of trees crept closer as they marched on; Kent led the horses as he spoke curtly with Kay. Kay chatted back to him easily, adding a few asides to the ever-attentive (and ever-silent) Vague and tossing her axe lightly from hand to hand. Batta stumbled along next to Sain, who seemed to be struggling as much on foot as Batta was on flat land; he struggled to lift his legs more than a few inches off the ground, same as Batta.  
Lyn made a point of moving next to Kent, grinning violently as she stalked closer... and closer... while Vague continued chatting with Kent, giving no sign of noticing her presence. She seemed so absorbed in their speech...

The perfect target.

* * *

While Kent led the horses, Sain stood a short ways ahead of him and practiced his lance techniques. Step, thrust, stop, retract... just like General Eagler taught him.

He was midway through another sequence when he decided to switch up his routine a little. He tossed his lance to his other hand and started shifting it from horizontal to vertical and back again, using only his left hand.

"Sain."  
"What is it? You run out of boot polish or something?"  
"_**Damn it, Sain! Listen to me!**_"

Sain got ahold of his lance and looked back at Kent.  
Kent never snapped at him like that. He was tense; his voice was ragged, and his head snapped toward any sudden noises. Vague must've really rattled him, and Sain didn't blame him. If he were in the same position, he honestly doubted he could've handled a crazy woman brandishing a knife at him.

"It's okay. Just take a deep breath... and keep yourself calm. Okay? You're all right now," said Sain in a gentle voice.

"She's _insane_! She tried to stab me for no reason!"

"She's not really going to hurt you, it wouldn't make sense. Even crazy women have patterns. They do things in a certain way. Lady Lyn's companion isn't going to hurt you for no reason, trust me."

Kent snorted. "Oh, really?! And what makes you the expert on crazy women?!"

"Quill."

Kent fell silent. His eyes lost their light.  
"Sorry." He looked back up at Sain, light flaring up behind his irises. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to let that... that... that _maniac_ come anywhere near me! I'd rather die than allow her near my sword again!"

"I will attribute that comment to shock."

Kent froze at the cold voice next to his ear. It was a bit lower and a lot rougher than the last time he'd heard it, but there was no voice in the world that sounded like Lyn's tactician.  
There were no words Kent could think to say.

Vague put one finger on his lips, like a mother shushing her child.  
"As fitting a comment based on shock, I will judge it as such and pay it no further heed. I should tell you, Kent, that any further declarations of that or similar natures will be taken seriously. If you would honestly rather die than allow me to be your ally... I would oblige you."  
There was no trace of malice, violence or eagerness in Vague's voice; her tone leaned more toward disappointment, or maybe sorrow. The flooded scarlet of her irises glistened gently as she looked into Kent's eyes.

"I would rather you think of me as a friend than an enemy. Please?"

Kent swallowed and slowly licked his lips.  
"Ahm... all right. Don't stab me."

Vague's face shifted into that same elusive expression.  
"I make no promises."

* * *

Lyn crept closer and closer. Her left hand hung low at her hip, swinging gently. Every drift brushed the tips of her fingers along the grip light as a feather. Lyn's clothes were so finely fitted, and her weapon so well-secured, she made little more than a whisper as she stepped closer and closer to Vague's unguarded back. As she watched, Vague languidly stretched out a hand and brushed her palm along a small tree.

The swings of Lyn's hand lessened with each foot she closed between them. Her fingers tightened slowly around the grip as she softly undid the knots holding her blade...

"Mountain... river... **lightning...** **_LORCA!_**"

As Lyn let loose the traditional battle cry of her people, she jerked her sword out of its lacing, scabbard and all. She leveled it at Vague's unguarded back and swung as fast as she could.

Red and brown and purple and green flashed around Lyn's sword arm in a swollen wave. The left half of Lyn's body and her right knee stung all at once. Lyn's vision spiraled madly to the ground.  
All of it registered as a flash in Lyn's mind.

Batta screamed.

* * *

Vague stood on top of Lyn's sword. Her left arm stretched straight out until it reached her elbow, where it turned toward the ground at a sharp angle. Her right arm clung to her side as if pinned, though her right hand curved back out again. Her left leg was perfectly bent and placed ahead of her other leg, holding most of her weight and transmitting a lot of power to her waist.

Kent drew his sword, while Sain hefted his lance up to chest level. Kay slipped her wolf Beil from its sheath and tossed it frantically from hand to hand as she advanced on Vague.

Vague stepped back from Lyn neutrally. She didn't make a move to help Lyn up, but she at least she didn't just walk off. Her lips were twisted into what might've been a soft smile as she watched Kent and Kay and Sain come closer, holding their weapons nervously as they advanced.  
"Don't mind me. I'm not prone to random violence when someone_ isn't_ brandishing a weapon at me. Besides, Lyn is fine - if only stunned and a bit bamboozled." She smirked slightly. "By the way, Lyn - in response to your question, I believe Batta was only trying to make you feel better. That was the meaning _I've_ discerned from his words."

While she stood there, Batta grabbed her by the braids and lifted her off her feet.  
"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO LYN?!" he screamed into her ear.

Vague's legs arched up like a tomahawk and caught Batta by the elbow. Her body wrapped around his arm and snaked up until she hit his shoulder and locked **_tight_** -

_"AAAAAAAAGH!"_ Pain erupted like a stream of flaming acid down the veins of Batta's arm. His breath ripped out of him like a hurricane as his knees buckled under him.

"Calm down, boy," Vague told him calmly. "It's a popped shoulder. If you keep straining like this, you'll tear your muscles apart." She extended her leg just a little. Batta shrieked madly, and she immediately shrank back again. "Ease down... ease down, Batta. It's okay. It's okay..."

Batta stopped moving. Vague twisted his arm quickly and rolled off of him. "Better?" she asked.

Batta rolled his arm experimentally. His eyes lit up in surprise. "Better. Way better," he added in disbelief. "How did you do that?"

"A little technique I picked up from Dew last time we were in Agusty. Even though he invented it, I don't think he ever got around to naming it." Vague blinked in surprise. After a long, uncomfortable silence, Vague's expression shifted.  
"...it's been a long time since I thought about Dew... thank you for reminding me of him, Batta."

There was that look again! Just like before, Batta couldn't tell what it was - even though he was looking straight at her, he couldn't figure it out! What _was_ that look?

Batta growled in irritation at himself. After a moment, he shook his head and nodded all at once.  
"Um, yeah. Okay."

Vague's jet-black eyes glittered at Batta for a moment. All at once, she glanced past him. "Is Lyn hurt?" she asked.

As Batta looked over his shoulder, Kent shook his head at her. "No, milady Lyn is unharmed. She's a bit..." he poked a thumb towards Lyn.

Lyn was tottering unsteadily as she weaved drunkenly toward Kay, holding her arms out as if she expected to fall over at any moment. For one moment, she stumbled and almost fell over before Kay caught her.

Vague chuckled softly. "Like I said, bamboozled. She'll get over it in a moment, don't worry," she added lightly. "Let's go. I want to m..." She trailed off. Her head tilted slightly to the left. Her eyes glazed over.

The whole world fell silent with her. The clacks and clanks of Sain's armor, which had followed since they'd left the inn, disappeared just as quickly. The subtle whispers that accompanied Batta and Kay's movements fell away. Even the calm wind Lyn basked in from the moment they'd left Bulgar died without a whisper.  
Then Vague's quiet burst off. Her eyes seemed to catch fire and burn as she suddenly barked, "Follow me. Quietly. Now!" She abruptly dashed off and disappeared into the trees.

The rest of the group hesitated for only a moment before they followed her. Mere seconds after they entered the tree line, they couldn't tell where the grass or the plains were anymore. It looked like the whole world was swallowed up by the trees.  
Lyn stumbled along a few steps behind everyone else. She swayed wildly to the left, wobbled, then overcompensated her balance and fell on her arm.  
"Shit!" she hissed.

"I said quietly!" said a hiss next to Batta's ear.

Batta whimpered quietly as he cowered silently away from the voice.

Vague materialized over Lyn, her expression far more stern than she remembered. A long triangular dagger occupied each of her small, slender hands, moving like a fourth joint in her arm. One arm flicked toward a nearby tree and let fly, forcing the dagger effortlessly through the bark and planting it deep into the trunk. Her other arm followed a slightly higher arc; that dagger went a meter or so farther up the greenwood. Her arms flashed toward her cloak and back at the tree, systematically slinging daggers higher and higher in a blur of scarlet skin and glaring metal.

Her hands dropped to her sides suddenly and held still. Her legs tensed sharply and burst up the tree trunk, planting her right foot on the hilt of her first-thrown knife. She kicked off, aiming for the next knife. She landed squarely on its hilt and stopped for a moment. She directed her gaze at Batta and Kay.  
"Listen."  
Vague bounded to the next blade and kept ascending, hopping lightly from dagger to dagger until she disappeared into the treetops. Lyn tried to track her crimson skin through the foliage, but even that iridescent marker flickered out and disappeared in a sea of dark green leaves.

Kent, Kay, Batta and Sain understood. They listened as hard as they could. Sain stalked toward his horse, keeping his armor from clanking through focused, titanic effort.

Lyn flicked her katana's _tsuba_ loose with her thumb. Her fingers tightened around the grip, drawing the blade slowly and silently free of its _saya_. The sound that came with it could be called a whisper if you went by volume, or a hiss if you went by the tone; it was so quiet it barely seemed to be there. It was like the sound of wind passing over a blade of grass.  
That was what she was going for.

Lyn kept her _saya_ in her right hand as the blade came completely free. Her left fist loosely clutched the old sword's grip, allowing her arms to move far more freely than if her grip had been tight. She stood still, not moving a muscle. Her ears twitched slightly as she listened to the air and the grass.

Wind was all they could hear for a moment.

Then it wasn't.

Voices from far off carried on the wind. They started in as wordless murmurs and illegible hums. As the ears of the troop adjusted, though, they began catching words every so often. Soon, the words became phrases, and then the phrases became sentences, and then the sentences grew into whole conversations.

_"Hell if I know where they went! ...Lorca wench was s'posed to be alo... wan't exactly on the lookout for a legion of knights riding past, you get me?!"_  
_"...e quiet, new meat... lucky... don't gut you where you stand."_  
_"...ck y... Zugu!"_

_"Shh... listen."_

The voices disappeared.

Lyn bent her knees and crouched low, tensing her sword with her left hand and keeping it still with her right. The blade's metal felt light as a feather and beautifully sharp. Lyn felt like a killing edge.

Lyn dashed toward the voices.

"AAAAAH!"

Lyn couldn't stop herself from crying out in pain as her legs cramped into immobility and forced her to the ground like a lamed horse. Her hands darted to her knees at once - a stroke of luck for her; that motion simultaneously leveled her sword with the ground and pointed its sharp edge away from her body.  
She held her breath and didn't make another noise.

One of the voices appeared above her.

"Well well well... aren't you the pretty one!"

A hand tangled into her hair and lifted her head off the ground. Lyn's eyes shut for a second at the stinging ache of her pulled hair, then flicked open again.

The face of a grizzled, sturdy, bead-eyed man stared endearingly back at her. A thick, ugly scar crossed his left eyebrow, extended down past his cheek and curled back around his cheekbone. He had a merry grin pasted across his face as he looked into Lyn's eyes, but his colorless eyes seemed still and lifeless, even as they flickered over her hair and across her body, scanning the pattern of her dress.  
All of a sudden, his eyes lit up.

"Your name is Lyndis, is it not?"

Lyn froze. Her eyes stretched wide. Her blinks, when they came, were unbelievably fast, barely more than flickers of pinkish-yellow for an instant, and nothing more. Her mouth opened in shock as her throat clicked once, then twice, struggling for words that refused to come. When her voice finally did obey her, her words were scarcely more than whispers.  
"Wh... _what did you call me?_" Her hand came up and pressed against the man's face, warding him off. "_Who are you?!_"

The man shook his head, brushing Lyn's fingers away.  
"What a waste... an absolute waste... Oh, Zugu," he added, briefly flicking his eyes down Lyn's body, "the things you'll do for gold..."

Zugu let go of Lyn's hair and stepped back against a tree, reaching for something on his belt. His hand came back after a moment, wielding a fair-sized iron axe in his hand without any effort. He tossed it to his other hand and caught it - with less grace and more wasted power than Kay, some obscure hidden corner of Lyn's mind noted with amusement - before letting out a sigh of resignation.  
"Ah, well."

The quiet, melancholy way he held himself evaporated instantly. The somber frown that had possessed him lightened almost instantly into a cheerful, psychotic grin.  
"Time to die, darlin'!"

"GET AWAY FROM HER!"

Zugu had time to duck before an axe sank into the tree at his back. His knees hit the ground at the same time as his right hand. He pushed forward and leaned into a roll that came up about four meters away from Lyn. That psycho grin was still pasted across his face, fixed grimly on Lyn.

"Oh, this is just peachy! The little girl has a boyfriend!" He turned suddenly and ran further into the trees. He raised his head up high and called out at the top of his lungs:  
"C'MON OUT, BOYS!"

As Lyn got shakily to her feet and Batta struggled with his weapon, the forest began to boil around them. Faces poked through the brush, then darted out again. Their voices came with them, all coarse and rough and low.  
"Ooooh, she's a pretty one! Looks like she'd squeal _real_ nice!"  
"What a body on that one, eh?!"  
"I want a girl like that!"  
"Too bad she's gonna die!"

Lyn picked up her sword again. "I'm not the one who's going to die! I save that for the first coward who shows me his face! Don't even bother showing up, because I could wade out there and bring back all of your heads if I felt like it! So bring it on, you bandit sacks of shit! I'm worth thousands of your wimpy swings and you know it!"  
Her eyes flashed brilliantly with inner fire as her voice raised to a shout. "Don't bother with that honorable 'one-at-a-time' crap! ALL OF YOU AT ONCE!"

"All RIGHT!"  
"Butchering time!"  
"I'm hungry!"  
"Oh, shut up Jiku! You just ate yak steak not twenty minutes ago!"  
"I'm still hungry..."  
"I'll buy you some fried beetles after we kill this bitch!"  
"Aw, but those are bitter and gross!"  
"Well, we can't afford Ilian melting candy on our kind of budget, now can we!? Whose fault is it that we had to shell out for a new caravan when SOMEONE started jumping on the axis!? AND, who was the asshole who thought the lantern oil was booze and drank it all down and cost us a trip to Niime the Shaman!? And besides that, who was the dumb bastard who thought it was a good idea to hit on that cleric in Thagaste!?"  
"Hey! She was hot, you have to admit that!"  
"She was wearing black mourning robes and carrying a censer full of ashes while chanting a prayer for the dead! I_ LITERALLY_ CAN'T IMAGINE ANY**_ WORSE_** SITUATION TO TRY AND 'CATCH A GIRL ON THE REBOUND'! What, were you thinking she was doing it to be ironic?!"

"And all this time, I thought I was facing off against professionals... " Lyn muttered to herself. "ENOUGH! Just come and get me, you stupid idiots! I'm waiting, and it's not like I'm getting any younger!"

"Oh! Right! Killing time!"

A brigand burst forth from the brush, axe leveled and swinging like a lumberjack at Lyn's midriff.

Lyn's sword emerged from its sheath and swept evenly across her front as she stepped primly back, deflecting her enemy's blade out and throwing his balance out so far he stumbled. Lyn stepped forward as her knee shot forcefully up, cracking into her opponent's rib and forcing him to the dirt, groaning and moaning and clutching his chest.

Another warrior emerged, keeping his axe loose in his grip, swaying slightly with his arm. He stepped toward Lyn cautiously, measuring the distance between them with a practiced eye. His feet kept close to the ground and only came closer in short, careful shuffles. His attention fixed on Lyn's waist, tracking every flex and twist and hitch.

"HI THERE HEADLESS!"

He whirled to face the voice.

The last thing he saw was the blade of an axe hurtling toward his eyes.

Batta's axe crashed through the man's skull and kept flying. The arm wielding it flew freely out and was quickly matched by the other. Batta's leg came up and kicked out as well, forcing him into a short twirl as the top of the bandit's head came free.

Batta slammed his foot to the ground again and planted his feet. "Whoa, Lyn! Did you see that?!"

Lyn glanced over to him.

Batta looked positively ecstatic. Little shuffles brought Lyn's focus on his feet, as they weaved back and forth like a child trying not to pee his pants. His right hand clenched around his axe so hard his knuckles turned white, while his left hand shook uncontrollably.  
"That guy was just going along, doing that soldier thing, looking at you, and I come up on him and I'm like 'hi there, headless' and I chop the top of his head off and it goes flying like twenty feet! Aw, man, just wait 'til I tell Kay! She's not gonna _believe_-"

_Ksshk_

"-thuh..."

The tip of a blood-coated sword poked through Batta's chest.

* * *

Don't you just _hate_ it when people say

**To Be Continued?**


End file.
